The Blue Eyed Spirit
by pearls-and-crystal-blues
Summary: After one touch on a monument's plaque, she woke a young spirit of over 2 centuries ago up. Being in love, that spirit decides to come to her world, fulfilling their pure destiny to love each other... AU story.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: **Hello to you all! This one is one of my new, multi-chaptered stories in here (I'm really so very thrilled to be back here!) Not much to say, I believe, despite some facts about this story, 'cause it's an AU one:

-As you'll see in this first chapter, when Hermione's on vacation, she touches a plaque on a monument, and during that little contact, she unknowingly wakes a spirit up, a young man named Ronald Bilius Weasley from a heavy, serene slumber up in Heavens... Anyway, as the young man of over 2 centuries ago wakes up and sees the girl near the monument, finds love in his heart, and realises that she's the one for him, his true soulmate, as well that it's his deepest desire to fulfill and incarnate their mutual feelings- another thing he's able to understand... So, this is a story of them, and how they will cope with everything around and how they will try to fulfill their purest of destinies.

-Also, I'd like to note that this is a magical world that Voldemort does not get reborn, nor he has all these Horcruxes and stuff; Voldemort was completely defeated when he tried to kill Harry at the age of one.

Now, I'll just let you all read; enjoy! :)

_~The Blue-eyed Spirit~_

_Prologue_

I clearly remember that day even now, even after years passing. Because, even though I face magic almost every day of my short life, I can't remember feeling so much energy and power in my veins. A different kind of magic- the most powerful one, for the matter…

I'm still so grateful for that day… how cannot I be? Books may give knowledge and wisdom, but a simple touch managed to give me something else: a whole new reason to live in the fullest…

_The chance to meet him…_

_Flashback:_

_Summer 1993; it was, more or less two months before I'd eventually turn 14. My parents, in hopes of spending more time with me without the obstacles of work, thought that we should have a small trip somewhere in the island, and eventually spend time together as a family after another year of my absence. I was exceptionally enthusiastic back then at the idea and all three immediately started brainstorming about this so anticipated vacation. Finally, we agreed on going to Wales; not that far from home and simply ideal for all of us. After reading some volumes about the magical history of the country, I get even more eager to travel there and, if possible, to visit some wizarding villages existent. _

_As usual for us Grangers, every trip combined relaxation along with educational sightseeing; my parents, excited themselves, had already set up a 'timetable' of sorts with all the things we would see or the places we'd visit. Eventually, after two days of enjoyment, I couldn't hold it anymore and asked my parents if we could go and visit a small, wizarding town not that far from our current position. Fortunately for me, they agreed, quite curious themselves to see how a wizarding community actually functioned. _

_It was a Thursday's afternoon of mid-July when I finally got there. No need to say that I was really fascinated over the fact that I would have the opportunity to observe a wizarding town, besides Hogsmead, that I would examine the ways wizards and witches behaved around each other without the worries of some Muggle seeing them; to a Muggle-born like me, this kind of things is something totally anew that cannot be unexplored for too long. _

_However, I daresay that deep down, my soul had guessed, had _sensed_ that it was something else, besides historic facts or knowledge that made me so thrilled… Once again, I was entirely right, though I couldn't wholly comprehend it at the time._

_At first, what my eyes met was a long path that was surrounded by many, small shops; a bookshop, an inn, a pharmacy with all the variety of potions for daily uses and all the usual shops for wizards. Of course, the ways of functioning weren't that different from what I've already faced at Hogsmead or the Diagon Alley, but I still liked the picturesque sensation it caused to me freely, as people with colourful robes and hats were walking around and chatting with their slightly thick accents, with wands in hand or standing out from inside pockets or sleeves; sometimes, I really couldn't wait to be one of those people!.._

_Walking on the street with eyes that tried almost desperately not to lose one single thing, we finally reached the centre of the small so cozy town, where, in the middle of a circular open place, was a big monument, made of sparkly white marble that stood out beautifully and awesomely… For a moment, I thought that I felt a shuddering feeling through my spine and my hairs standing up from the admiration evident inside me. _

_With unconscious steps, I approached the testimonial without taking my eyes of it, my pace getting quicker with each step. When I was finally standing before it, I realized that an also shiny, bronze plaque was on the front side of it, inscribed calligraphically. Even though at the sight of the thousands letters I got tremendously eager to absorb the information written, my eyes first decided to examine the sculpture on top of the marble base, a wonderful, breathtaking blend of black and white marble, as well as shiny ivory. It was not something really significant, something that would really make someone understand in full what the monument was standing for, but only make some vague guesses pop into mind. That is exactly what I did, as I examined with sharp scrutiny how the black marble wand was lying on top of a big, beautifully inscribed and decorated sword of the whitest marble and ivory- their lying position one to shape a cross and show off both weapons brilliantly. Like half-hanging from the edge of the top of the base, was a bunch of black marble roses, which seemed to stay together tightly by the hold of a golden locket, one that half-rested on the preface of the monument and in its end appeared to have some sort of crest, along with some beautifully shaped letters- probably initials, I guessed, even though I couldn't really figure out which the letters were to make a surer presumption. _

_After some more, long moments of staring, with breath lost, at these, seemingly odd things to ornate a monument with, I eventually averted my eyes from the beauty of the aptly sculptured items to look at the bronze plaque on the preface of the monument. I took another unconscious step closer before letting my eyes wander from left to right quickly, absorbing the sight almost hungrily, with that permanent thirst of mine when it comes to learning facts and gaining more knowledge. _

'In this very land, at 1799, goblins, along with dark wizards tried to throw the town in flames, along with its citizens, and foray all the goods of the land. A few brave men and women managed to stand up and shown their faith to our land by battling for this soil, finally managing to vanquish the darkness and bring the tranquil of the place back where it was bound to rest.

During that fateful night of 2nd March, 1799, a brave, young man gave his life in order to secure his family's safety. This monument is a tribute to Ronald Bilius Weasley, a true example of selflessness, bravery and loyalty to the family and the wizardry.

May you rest in peace eternally, our dear friend.

Ronald Bilius Weasley

1 March 1779- 2 March 1799'

_I was slightly surprised, to say in the least, for such a historical reference to the little town- for most probably the first time I could recall, I didn't have a clue about such a fact while visiting this little, seemingly unimportant, town. I instantly got fascinated from the story of the young man- one of the so young age of twenty- who died while trying so heroically to save his family and hometown. _

_Without really thinking about it, with motions slow and almost intuitional, I let my fingertips touch the metal plaque ever so kindly, exactly where the name of the newly-discovered hero was inscribed. _

_And at that precise moment, the millisecond required for my skin to make contact with the metal, I felt all sorts of reactions inside me and around me, a thing so strange, yet so comforting and balmy, that made me unconsciously let out the softest of gasps, one of utter, yet gladly acceptable, astonishment._

_The auburn metal was at first cool under my touch, like it was supposed to be; almost immediately, though, the hard substance got warmer, and comfortably so, for the matter, so soothingly balmy under my own skin. I felt my whole arm, in a matter of short-lived seconds, warmer too, like the sudden, inexplicable warmth of the metal rushed easily into me, through my skin and straight into my veins and flesh… The thought of it all, along with something else, totally unnamed to me, made my arm tingle a bit as well, somewhat numb and way too relaxed during this odd, yet welcoming, course of warmth-bathing. It was like a little jolt of harmless energy surged through my fingertips, to my arm, and straight to my whole, unprepared body. Then, unavoidably, more reactions occurred to me._

_My eyes widened ever so slightly, as I felt an ever so gentle, balmy breeze caressing the skin of my face, every lively pore of it, making my wild curls of hair whisk away from my temples and eyes gracefully. That little aura was so refreshing to me, made me feel actually so very lively, like reborn, really, like it was a breath of God sent to me like a gold-precious blessing that gave to me all the energy of the universe and even more than that; at that tiny moment, I could feel like everything was available to me, like all the world was within reach, like I suddenly deserved to have everything in the world; it was bizarre, maybe even a little mental, but it was actually there, this vast feeling, and my blissfully pounding heart whispered to me not to be afraid of it, whatever it was, but to embrace it and make it one with myself; it was warm, harmless and inspiring, and its novelty and its lingering inside me, almost to point palpable, made me comply with my heart's kind suggestions easily, innocently, as I was unknowingly craving to sense all this newborn, incomprehensible feeling of liberty for as long as it existed._

_And the only think I could do besides breathing of an air with a so discreet essence of apples and earth, was staring unconsciously at the inscribed name on the plaque:_

_Ronald Bilius Weasley…_

_End of Flashback_

That was the very first time I felt it- that sprouting feeling of the most inexplicable, yet most inspirational kind of energy and warmth, tingling all over my body and soothing my soul with tremendous ease. Back then, being so young and unprepared yet, I couldn't realize what was happening, what was the cause of such awesome sentiments of comfort and sensations of tranquility.

I couldn't really know that I had managed, with that meager touch of my fingertips on the metal, to wake that youthful spirit from an everlasting slumber up, to wake _him_ up and let him discover my presence along with things, with _emotions_ he himself hadn't really known when he was gracing with his presence the planet Earth- and that was over two centuries ago…

As he later let me know, he felt as powerful and warm as I had felt during that first contact. He was sleeping deeply, unknowingly almost, and then he felt something stirring from very deep inside him and he remembered opening his eyes and standing near the monument, that monument about _him_, looking at a strange girl touching the little plaque…

He confessed to me one night that at that moment, he felt smoothing balm embracing his heart and energy flowing in his veins just like magic; he also seemed to understand much more than I did, to decipher to the fullest what that tiny moment meant to the pair of us, what our connection was, how much it meant, simply everything- everything that I was, back then, ignoring naively.

He knew too well when to make his presence known to me, and exactly the way to do it without scaring me. He knew that I was not ready enough just then to accept the entire meaning of his presence _in _me, he knew that everything would come at the most appropriate time, and that it would be then as easy as breathing for both of us. He knew how to be patient and wait some more for me, yet he also knew how to warm me and inspire me, even though I could hardly comprehend what it was that was causing all this pureness inside me.

It was long after a year that he finally graced me with his existence, but at that moment, I was more than ready not only to accept what he was and what he was carrying along with him, but I was completely eager and sure to embrace it and never let it go…

_Flashback:_

_The stress of the last few weeks was so vast and heavy that I couldn't honestly have more strength in me to suppress it anymore and pretend that everything was alright. Very little was alright at the time being and I couldn't stand it, mostly because I knew that I had to face it every single day for so long, yet I could simply do nothing about it, not one thing to ease all the hardness and the difficulties…_

_So, when night eventually fell and I was securely hidden in between crimson curtains of my bed, I did that one thing that I always tried to prevent from happening:_

_I cried. _

_And it wasn't as simple as that; some tears couldn't really do the trick this time for me. All the stress, the worry, the agony over my one and very best friend came out as choked sobs, hiccups, loud sniffs to the point that I couldn't easily breathe anymore._

_All because of that stupid, still apparent prejudice._

_No, I'm not really referring to any sort of prejudice and meanness shot to me and my so-known blood status; I couldn't care less now, after all the years of the teasing and the threatening. No, it wasn't me I was worried about, but my Harry, my dearest and only best friend that once again, had to endure all these indescribable things, because of his dark and lonely past, because he's an orphan despite his will, because he's a hero in spite of his desire to be normal, because he's a half-blood, seeking friendship in a Muggle-born and rejecting the invitation of a bunch of spiteful purebloods to become one of the most merciless bullies of the whole school all these years ago… And even though during daylight I always appear strong and try so very hard to be calm and reassuring to him, giving him all the support and kind, friendly words he surely needs, at some points, I just bent down, eventually breaking and letting out all the worries and sadness addressed to Harry and his still tragic state, letting out all the pent up tension I feel in my body and heavy spirits so for long… _

_So, when solitude was guaranteed, when darkness was embracing me along with strong silencing charms, I'd let everything out… but, oh God, this time it was so hard and I couldn't stop thinking hopelessly and crying like mad…_

_More sobs to come, more tears, as well as more concern for poor Harry… why always had to be him?_

_I shed tears and choked out sobs some more, for time unknown, and with eyes stung and puffy, with face warm and wet and with a head too heavy and hurt, I unconsciously feel asleep…_

…

_I opened my eyes slowly, only to see that I was not in my respectful, four-poster bed I recall of occupying, but in an unknown place outwards, somewhere in the countryside. I could faintly listening to birds' chirping and the swaying of the all-green leafage, and I suddenly forgot all about my worries and the harshness of prejudice and Harry; it was like nothing of those really existed, and if they really did, they were put in a comfortable comma, in a momentary halt that seemed agreeable with my heart and my restive soul. Once again, I could feel this energy and this comfortable balm sprouting inside me like wild flowers, and everything was serene and still and beautiful; the nature was beautiful, the singing of the birds was beautiful, the little dance of the leafs was beautiful, even… even that distinctive and oddly familiar scent of apples and earth embracing me discreetly was beautiful. _

_All my agonies were far away gone and the nature was inspiring, was stunning, leaving unimportant the fact of how I got there in the first place. And the sunbeams were washing my skin with so much care, that _I myself _felt beautiful in these wonderful surroundings, I felt really one with them, and I didn't really mind staying here forever. _

_And then, I felt that little soft breeze encircling me gently and a soft faint whisper along with it caressing my eardrums…_

"_Hello…"_

_My heart started beating a tad faster at that, but it honestly was not fear that fuelled that little organ pound at this astonishing speed; it was some sort of… excitement, of sweet disturbance that I never experienced before and I never thought that it was really apparent._

_However, I could still feel so very calm and warm, even though the excitement and the energy were flowing madly in my veins; it was extraordinary, impossible even, but the moment it occurred, I couldn't doubt it, because it was there and I could feel it in every pore of my skin and in every little cell of my body like it was the most important thing in the entire universe. _

_And… And maybe it was, as I could still sense that little, smooth aura around me and I could still hear the echoes of that feathery voice still in my ears…_

"_Who are you?" I asked the voice ever so softly, my voice barely audible even to me, but somehow I knew that the voice heard me- _he_ could hear me and sense me completely, but I never got afraid of this totally new and abrupt thing- well, maybe because it somehow seemed neither new nor abrupt. _

"_We've met before… in some way…" I heard that kind, male voice again in my ears, and suddenly I looked around me, thinking for the very first time that I may be able to take a glimpse of the voice's owner, if possible. But my careful eyes gave me the signal that no other human was there around me, it was only me in the nature and the voice seemed to be in the very air that I breathed. _

"_When?" I asked him after some short moments, letting unhurriedly his words sink in my mind like some very precious pieces of treasure; he seemed to breathe a so gentle, innocent laugh before whispering more words, spilling them in the air around me._

"_Over a year ago… But certainly our sort of acquaintance wasn't one of the usual ones, Hermione Granger…" _

_The voice was still feathery and tightly laced with some kind of ancient chivalry that I had never experienced before. For some moments all I could decipher was the smoothness of that laughter and the silkiness of the voice while spelling more and more words, even my own name like a pray. My heart got eagerly nested in the more warmth and serenity springing around it and my mind, after eventually managing to get away from this lovely distraction, tried desperately to scan through my memory, trying to recall any sort of acquaintances I had during the last or so year. _

_Nothing came, and that got me perplexed and slightly curious._

"_I…I cannot remember…" I started but I trailed off, due to immense curiosity and fear of shooing away that voice, if he realized that I couldn't bring to mind something so worthy as our very first meeting. _

_The tone in his voice told me not to worry about the possibility of my latter thought. "Just follow me." _

_And so did I._

_At first, I was anxious that I couldn't really follow him, that the breezes and their journeys would trick me and led me away from this airy presence; somehow, he makes it possible for me, talking clearer in the almost still of the nature, making somehow Earth itself helping him during that magical journey. I was led through big, oak trees rose bushes and other, old trees covered with jasmines to somewhere unknown, yet the fact never got me scared- I would only be scared if I lost that mysterious presence._

_When he wasn't talking to me, showing me where to follow him, I'd clearly see some branch of a tree swaying with the breezes and showing me discreetly a small path between the flowers and the rocks; then, some squirrel or little frog would catch my attention and head me towards where the voice wanted me to; it was strange, absurd really, yet utterly unique and refreshing, like a new self of mine was suddenly being born through that process to follow that gentle, serene voice that was still ringing in my ears like bells._

_At long last, I finally reached a little clearing in that sort of garden I was in; clear patches of earth were blessed with wildflowers that barely reached the calves and with the greenest of grass. Some more of oak trees were a little behind, throwing comforting shades down to the earth and some birds were on their branches, signing their freedom and happiness so beautifully that I wanted to just close my eyes, sink in and be one with the nature, never escaping from it again. Along with their songs, I was able to hear the little flowing sounds water made, as it was dancing freely in the naturally abnormal cavity of the river._

_It was heavenly here, especially at that precise moment, and I said so out loud, in hopes of the voice listening to me; he did. _

"_I'm glad you like it," he said to me and I smiled up to the skies, not really knowing, or caring, for the reason why; it was so peaceful and warm here that all my worries, even the most ridiculous ones, escaped from my body and vanished into the air… like he took them away from me…_

_I shouldn't be surprised if it was like this. _

"_Please, open your eyes," he asked me ever so softly after some timeless moments, and I couldn't go against him even if I wanted to, which was not the case. I opened the eyelids ever so slowly, never feeling the rush over me, and I witnessed once again the blue of the sky blending with the other, vivid colours of the nature: the greens and the yellows, the pinks and the browns of the earth that were so pretty and soothing and simply everything! And the blacks near my bare feet—_

_The blacks? There were no blacks before…_

_I looked down with slightly narrowed eyes, my curio levels raised in the course of milliseconds. I observed those tints of black on the grass and some seconds passed before I realized that these were some spread, black roses on the grass of the riverbank,, still not fully opened, during their most beautiful and fresh phase…_

_Black roses… a so very rare flower for eyes to see… I myself had not witnessed it before now but once—_

…_Then…_

_During… During that Thursday of mid-July… I've saw, for the very first time, a bunch of everlastingly fresh, black roses…_

_Over a year ago…_

_Oh, in the name of Circe's beloved cloaks!_

"_Is… Is it… _y-you_?" I whispered after some prolonged moments of heavy, uneven breathing, hyperactivity of my brain and wild heart-beating; my voice was all wondering and shaky, and my mind, my entire soul was hopefully wondering… wondering if such a thing was _even plausible_…_

_A minute passed and flowed along with the water in the river nearby, before I heard so clearly that setting-free answer of his…_

"_Yes."_

_And how couldn't it be him? Suddenly, it all made sense; the energy and the warmth I felt every time since that contact of my fingertips on the plaque… the _name_ inscribed on the plaque…_

_Ronald Bilius Weasley._

_Everything made sense now, every little piece of my latest reality, the balm, the scent, the tranquility, the hopes and the anticipation of my heart, the lack of fear…_

_Every little aspect made sense, so wondrously… yet, it was so very simple…_

_It was as easy as breathing and as normal as the flowing of the blood inside my veins… Simple, normal and appropriately vital. _

_Every little thing was put to its rightful place… and I feel not odd, or fearful or suspicious… I feel only warmed and calm and rested and… loved._

_Yes; exceptionally and fairly loved._

_It's everything so beautiful and breathtaking, even more so now. _

"_Ronald…" I sighed unconsciously, and the feel of his name on my lips and tongue did not feel strange, but blissfully familiar and easy, like it was meant to be pronounced by me since forever. It was beautiful, and even more so when I felt his warmth around me enhancing and embracing me more tightly and lovingly._

_Out of the blue, without being really able to identify the reason behind, I felt that urge to step forward, towards the river, so my eyes could see straight-forward the semi-transparent, thin skin of the flowing water mass. At first, the slight reflection of my face was clearly visible to my eyes, but then, at that little course of tiny seconds, I caught a glimpse of a pair of gleaming, crystal blue eyes above my shoulder's reflection, gazing straight into my eyes with a look of tenderness and gentleness that was unknown to me till then. I was completely and utterly mesmerized by the look and the shine of those eyes, and the balm around my heart enhanced desirably, as I realized at that right moment that I would live, from now on, in hopes of seeing again this very pair of eyes that, as quickly as it appeared, disappeared with the flowing of the water, but never along with it the sweet essence of his presence still around me._

_He was still there._

_That wonderful, kind presence._

_The blue-eyed spirit._

"_I'll forever be here for you, Hermione; never forget that."_

_And with a lulling sensation rushing and tingling all over my body, I promised inwardly to never forget that._

_End of Flashback._

After that eventful night, I remember never getting over-stressful with everything; the moment I'd feel my heart pounding fast with anxiety over something, that special kind of warmth would encircle me with ease, like it was a pair of familiar, loving arms around my body, reminding me their presence and the existence of calm in the world.

The blue-eyed spirit never forgot me, like he had promised during that night so many years ago.

And indeed, they were so many, beautiful years. Almost three years of his love encircling me selflessly; because, don't think that I didn't figure it out from the very first moment he spoke to me with the entire peacefulness of the heaven;

He loves me with all he has, and I shamelessly confess that I love him too; my other half, my true soulmate, the only one able to make me justly and blissfully complete.

I sigh contently and I eventually let the volume in my lap be closed and laid on the nightstand next to me; I should know that it would be hopeless, trying to do some light reading when all of my mind was whole-heartedly focused on him. I smile as I switch off the lamp and I lie down on my own bed, happily and slight childishly cuddling closer to my pillow and blankets.

This, this moment is always the best of my day…

That moment when I feel entirely his presence around me, as his warmth and gentleness will hug me lovingly, exactly like his warm body would spoon me if it was here, behind me, so apparent and ready to lull me into pleasant and serene slumber…

"_Goodnight, my beauty…"_ I hear his whisper, so warm and kind and faint, caressing my ear. I smile wider and snuggle more in his embrace.

"Goodnight, Ron."

* * *

><p>-<em>Well, that's the very first chapter of the story. I wanted at first to show a bit of Hermione's reality, how she 'met' Ron for the very first time, how she 'woke him up' before getting to the main body of this story... So, how did you like it? I'd really, REALLY like to know your worthy opinion by seeing your equally worthy REVIEWS! I'd be just grateful...<em>

_-More to come soon enough, hopefully... Sometimes summer heat just plays with my nerves and patience... Anyway, till the next time... :)_


	2. I Laid My Eyes On You

**Author's Note:** Hello everyone! I'm sincerely and terribly sorry for such a long wait, but my holidays, unexpectedly so, started a bit earlier and durated a month! And then I came back home for a couple of days only to have another, short vacation, so not much time for me really to finish this... Sorry again, guys! Not really much else to say, despite the fact that I'm not overly satisfied with it the way it came out... Surely it has everything I wanted to put into, but at some points the words didn't come out EXACTLY the way I wanted them to... Anyways, I still hope wholeheartedly that you'll enjoy this one greatly... :)

So, I'll leave you for now... Enjoy! :)

_~The Blue-eyed Spirit~_

_I Laid My Eyes On You_

"Oh, Mum, of course I'll be careful; you know I always am!"

That's how it is, every single time, but honestly, I cannot really complain about it; I know that if I ever become a mother myself, I'll surely be like that.

"It's- it's just that you're Head Girl, Hermione… There will be so much stress and work and expectations from you… I can't help but keep feeling worried about you!" Mum keeps on her anxious rambling and I can easily see the little, shiny droplets forming and slowly escaping from the outer corners of her eyes; oh, mother…

"Oh, please, Mum, please don't cry," I ask her softly and sort of pleadingly, giving her yet again another, strong hug from my part; from above her shoulder, I throw my Dad a meaningful look, telling him silently to take the matters into his own hands and calm Mum down the way only he knows.

_Oh, eternal love…_

"Come on, sweetheart, calm down," Dad eventually says with that sweet, so kind tone of his that he usually only uses towards me and mostly, Mum. "Hermione's a very strong-willed and independent young woman now, dear, and knows perfectly well how to handle the demands of her duties to her magical school. She knows more about it than the pair of us and if her professors chose her between others of students, that means that they saw in our daughter all the things required so she could efficiently cope with all these demands and do amazingly well… Our little Hermione never disappointed us, why would she now?"

All three of us chuckle gently on his, rather longish monologue of reassurance, but as I see Mum nodding vividly, wiping away her few tears and laughing so gently and shakily, looking so much calmer and happier, I feel so much gratitude for Dad, for being so great and lovely and capable to handle my Mum's nerves with such delicate efficiency… oh, Daddy, you're amazing!

A quick glance to my wristwatch tells me that I really need to go, if I really want to catch the train and really become a Head Girl, that is.

_Head Girl… _Aw, a dream finally comes true! I'm so excited about this, all the new duties, the actual honour of choosing me, from all the girls, and—

_Hermione! You're losing focus again! Hogwarts Express is to leave in a few minutes' time, remember?_

Oh, right!

"Em… Mum, Dad, I really need to go now," I tell them half-coyly, giving them a sincere smile along with it. They both smile in return and rush to give me, yet again, warm and bone-crushing hugs.

"Be careful, dear; take care of yourself, eat and sleep well, spend time with Harry and your other friends…"

"Send us a letter every now and then, yes?"

"…and listen to your teachers, dear and, if chance given, don't hesitate to go out on a date with some handsome gentleman your age…"

"Jean!" Dad stops with a scandalized expression my Mum's unstoppable rambling and I laugh out loud with the hilarity of the moment.

"Don't worry, I'll do everything you've said- except from the dating of course, Dad," I answer to them both, giving at the last, hasty comment a half-humorous, half-serious smile to Dad, who seems quite irritated by the keep-going of the little joke.

Besides, it's not like there will be any dating for me; it's absolutely true, and honestly, I cannot be any happier about it.

With a last wave of the hand, a quick goodbye and another quick kiss on the cheek from my mother's behalf, I rush towards the train, dragging along my huge luggage and the little cage where ginger, sleeping Crookshanks lays as comfortably as a royal.

The sensation of riding Hogwarts Express once again, for the very last time towards the most magical school existent- not only literally- is quite overwhelming, to be honest, and for a moment I cannot do more than stare down at the busy hallway, half-packed with students that still hadn't the time to properly settle. The sounds of chit-chatting, of doors banging enthusiastically and lively, of feet running and bouncing, of owls howling and hooting slightly within their cages, all of it holds some sort of magic that warms the heart and arouses the sentimentalism within.

I love being back here.

The first thing in mind is to find Harry and hug him with all the strength I have in my tiny body; only God knows how much I miss the guy after not seeing him for almost two months; after that, the warmth and privacy of a compartment is also required and much appreciated…! Mind strictly focused on these happy thoughts, I take a few steps further down the packed hallway, till a thought strikes forcefully in my mind and keeps me wondering how the heck I managed to forget about the most important duty today:

The Heads' speech.

"Thank God I remembered it in time…" I mumble to myself and swiftly turn around to reach the first compartment of the train, the Heads' one. A little hint of pride swells inside my chest and unconsciously I keep smiling as I take determined steps towards the front of the train, towards one of the most wonderful and honourable things that ever occurred to my life thus far… For a millisecond, my mind's probed by the quite anxious thought of the absence of the other brilliant thing in my life, but right now, I really need to focus on the task in hand, and then, if lucky enough, I'll inwardly elaborate more on the slightly worrying fact of the present.

I eventually reach the compartment only to find it completely empty. I sigh and drag my luggage into the coupe along with me, pushing it quickly in the end of it, just below the window. Of course, I didn't expect any of the younger Prefects to be here right away, it's normal and acceptable, but at least I have imagined that the Head Boy would have the tendency to be here already, so we'd acquaintance each other- if we don't know each other already, that is- and discuss some about the duties and our speech to the youngers, before they start to make their appearance; but, well, no one is here but me and sleeping Crookshanks.

At that precise moment, just as the thought was being completed in my mind, I hear an almost inaudible, swishing sound… Curious to identify the source of such a sound, I turn around swiftly, already wand ready to slip from my sleeve and be grabbed by my hand, but quickly I realize that such a need is not required; I feel quite relieved when I see that it's only a flying note entering the compartment and circling around the air, slowly but surely taking its time to come towards my direction. Quite mesmerized with its graceful motions in the air, at first I only stand still, with eyes probably wide and lips slightly parted, staring at the sight carelessly; but after some short-lived moments of innocent lack of focus, I sharply turn back to reality and indicate to the note to come closer, so I will be able to grasp it and take a look to it. Sure enough, to its side, my name is written, with that neat and careful handwriting in dark emerald ink that I bet belongs to Professor McGonagall.

I quickly unfold the note and let my eyes wander to its many words and surely important meaning:

_Ms. Granger,_

_Receiving this emergency note means that you are securely on Hogwarts Express and traveling toward Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, as well already preparing to begin with your first duties as Head Girl. The purpose of this note is to inform you that the fellow Head Boy, with whom you share responsibilities and duties, is not capable to be present at the current journey to Hogwarts. That means that the regular speech to the rest of the Hogwarts's Prefects is to be exclusively your responsibility, as well as the rest of your duties for the rest of the journey. Please note that Head Boy will appear to Hogwarts with another way of transportation, due to some matters in hand, and that he will arrive at Hogwarts no longer than tomorrow night, thus you will be able to know him and work appropriately with him as regards your year's duties. _

_May the rest of your trip is pleasant and uneventful, _

_Professor Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts. _

The note leaves surely with a lot of realization, as well as big amounts of popping curiosity. Surely, a student that was chosen from the staff of Hogwarts as the year's Head Boy has all the required 'characteristics' of sorts, is responsible, hard-working, can stand pressure and the entire list of sensible things; of course, such a person would not be late to an arranged meeting without a proper reason, especially if that meeting was one of such importance as the very first Prefect meeting of the school year!

But on the other hand, I cannot help it and keep wondering… why a student somehow arranged _beforehand_ to travel to Hogwarts somehow else? And how is that? And what are these _matters in hand_ associating with him, so he'd be at school a day later than the rest?

And really, who is this Head Boy? I really hope it's not Draco Malfoy and one of his overly pompous ways of attracting attention…

I am so very ready to get lost in another long train of thoughts, but it comes to a halt the moment I hear the door sliding open and the first three Prefects arriving to the compartment. I recognize them as fifth years, especially with those stuck expressions of nervousness and wild observation over anything new… I smile at myself and I give them, as well, a gentle, reassuring smile, greeting them and giving them seats, already asking them their names and chatting with them till the rest of the prefects arrive.

Oh, I already love my job!

…

I breathe out the last long and relieving breath as I see the last of the Prefects departing from the compartment and starting his patrolling over the hallway of the train; however much I love this, I can't help but feeling nervous and slightly anxious over the thought of my duties.

The speech, the hints, the instructions, the long awaited questions, they all came and went, fortunately with an ease that I was fearful of lacking terribly at this point. All went well, surely, but I wasn't as confident as I really wanted to… Yes, I was alright, I didn't trip over my words, I answered all of the questions smoothly, I explained everything thoroughly and simply, as expected and wanted. However, the one thing that in a way, got to me, was the lack of this warmth I expected to feel since last night.

It never came, never here to soothe my insecurities, shoo away the tangles of worry fussing and messing with my head… I never felt my anxiousness disappear with that profound, magical easiness I was used to for the last three-or-so years…

That was the thing that got me more stressed and worried than anything else.

Ron, my dearest, gentle, blue-eyed spirit had suddenly "disappeared" a couple of days ago, just like this, and since then, I never felt him near me again, never here to wish me goodnight and warm me with his airy embrace, never here to cherish me during dreams, showing me faintly his crystal blue orbs, full of light and kindness and love. It feels slightly dreadful, not understanding his presence, and the lack of it is so unbearable at times… I know I should not be like this, I should be strong and tolerate it… N-No one said that he'd be here forever for me…

_No, he said it… he promised it…_

Then, where is he?

I feel some burning feeling on the behind of my eyeballs and I quickly blink it away; yes, the realization that I might have lost him, for some reason I most probably never discover, becomes nearly devastating… Who would have thought, Hermione Jean Granger, a witch always claimed clever, strong and independent, being… weak. And so very much in love with a kind, brave, yet dead young man who survives only in her heart, mind and dreams…

No, I must remain strong and confident, just like Ron always wanted me to be. It doesn't matter that he's gone so suddenly, I can feel, even though I don't know in actuality, that he had a so very good reason to never appear to me again, as well as that he still loves me… He may be dead for almost two centuries now, but his words to me will remain true and alive in me now and forever.

I take a few more minutes to gather my wits, shed a few painful tears, calm completely down and then make eventually my way out of the compartment, so I will see the one person I crave to see since the moment I arrived at King's Cross. It shouldn't be too hard to find him, as all the students are already settled in their compartments and enjoy their trip one way or another. I sigh with contentment as I scan every compartment I pass for the too-known figure of the average-height boy with the jet-black, messy hair and the glasses that came to be my best friend since first year.

"At long last, Hermione!"

Oh, here he is, blood and flesh in front of me, grinning and opening wide his arms for me to curl in… Oh, Harry…

"Umph, Hermione, not so hard!" Harry Potter whines, just like always, because sometimes he is being so boy and just wants not to show his true feelings. I back away from his hug so I can throw him a pointed look.

"Since when you find my hugs intolerable for your body, Harry?" I ask him just as pointedly, though I can feel the corner of my mouth betraying me and already trying to curl up just a bit. Harry rolls his eyes and sits again on his seat.

"Since the moment you decided to crush my bones just for fun, Head Girl," he says with a tiny smirk on his face, his emerald eyes shining with mischief that should scare me, as it is not even the first day at school; my eyebrow is shot up with sly curiosity.

"O-ho, are you calling me '_Head Girl_' now, Mr. Harry Potter?" Harry nods vividly his head, a humming from his neck emphasizing perfectly his fake point. At this so very mistakenly innocent face of his I'm starting to lose it completely; oh, yeah, I can feel my midriff and lips trembling with the laughter that wants so desperately to get freed and fill the air wholly… Oh, no, I shouldn't give him the satisfaction… One deep breath, two deep breaths, three deep breaths and… I explode in laughter…

Ah… so much for trying not to lose it in front of him…

"Oh, you've improved since the last time I saw you," says Harry in his cheerful voice as he looks at his wristwatch with fake interest. I roll my eyes and try hard to swallow my sniggering while I sit next to him, turning my body to face him completely.

"Shut up, Harry," I order him jokingly and both chuckle before that so known, comfortable silence falls between us for some short moments. "I really missed you, you big baby."

He smiles at me that big, genuine smile that is only for me and the sight warms my heart instantly. "I missed you too, sis," he confesses without hesitation and takes me in his arms, already kissing my forehead with all his brotherly love. Yes, we have passed that time when we were slightly awkward around each other long ago, but that unease wasn't apparent because of any romantic interest between us, but because those strong feelings of familiarity were, back then, still new to us and we were afraid of how the other would react to them. No, we don't even have a problem to call each other "brother" and "sister". "You really have no idea how much I really missed you…"

And knowing the circumstances under which he lives, I understand how heavy and true his words are, how much he really means them. At this, I don't reply, because I don't want to ruin the atmosphere around us or his good mood, so I just sigh and let my head rest on his shoulder, already in mind of something funny to spit at him so the rest of the trip will go as smoothly and pleasantly as any other year…

…

"And this is the entrance of the Head Prefects' private dormitories."

I nod once again at Professor McGonagall, my eyes already observing the oil painting that covers the entrance, a very beautiful image of the very first Head Prefects of Hogwarts, Howard Burke and Anna Richards, perfecting little details in their appearances and already smiling to me.

"You're the new one, right?" Howard Burke asks kindly, even though he seems already sure of the answer he is about to get; despite the little fact, I am to answer to him, just due to proper manners.

"Oh, yes, indeed I am," I state sheepishly, still not that confident with saying it to others like that; both smile to me good-naturedly, but a second later, Anna Richards seems to scrutinize something.

"But where's the Head Boy? Shouldn't there be one?" At this, Professor McGonagall gives the answer.

"There _is_ a Head Boy, Anna, but due to some matters in hand, he wasn't able to come today; I'm sure, however, that he will be here, at the castle by this time tomorrow."

Once again, her words manage successfully to trigger my sleeping curiosity, to the point of expressing it out loud. "Excuse me, Professor, for taking the liberty to ask, but what kind of matters are those, so a student of the school is to come here belatedly? Especially a person such as the new year's Head Boy."

Professor McGonagall gives me a quite careful look before answering me. "I understand, Miss Granger, that you may be quite concerned about the many of duties appointed to you and that some major appointments were slightly postponed due to the Head Boy's belated arrival, but I am not in the place to tell you at the time being the reasons of such a situation; if I am not mistaken, Professor Dumbledore is to explain the whole situation when he thinks it is most appropriate."

At this, of course, I understand that I'm not to press the subject any further. "Of course, Professor," I simply say with firm understanding. Professor McGonagall smiles at me slightly and nods once before speaking again.

"As previously mentioned, this is the entrance of the Head Prefects' dormitories; thus, there is need for a password that no one else is to know but the Head Prefects. I have to inform you, Miss Granger that this password is not to be given to you like every other password in the castle by the staff of the school, but it is to be formed solemnly by the year's Head Prefects. Considering, however, the absence of the Head Boy at the time being, I have to ask you to make yourself a password, which will be later said to your fellow Head Prefect."

"Of course, Professor McGonagall," I speak quickly, showing that I understood every tiny detail of her rather longish instructions. With another short nod, she speaks further:

"Now, for the password to be validated, you need to think clearly of it in your mind, pronouncing it with your inner voice, all the while touching the centre of the painting with your right hand's fingertips- is that understood, Miss Granger?" With my firm nod, she continues. "Alright then, you should do the procedure now, if you please."

"Of course, Professor," I speak softly, all the while my mind's already thinking hard, squeezing out any droplets of imagination existent within my mind. I try to think of my interests, of my reality, of simply everything around me, so I can possibly trigger any sort of inspiration within, so I can find some words worth of being the password I'll use for the rest of the year, along with that mysterious, absent Head Boy… I think for some odd seconds, and unsurprisingly so, my mind's filled with the melancholy of that other, much more important absence in my life, the one that somehow haunts me all these past few days… With that wondrous sensation, my entire being is filled with the feeling of his so known warmth, but quite sadly, not as a new-born experience, but as an ever so faint echo… yet, my inner eyes are widening in the beaming sight of his own, crystal blue eyes, of the gleam of his airy presence and of the grandness of his love that still engulfs me like nothing else. A smile is gladly inevitable, another, whole-hearted excuse to breathe with all I have within, and I immediately known what my password is going to be, how I'll put my dearest Ron a little more in my life, like I always yearn to…

I close my eyes, so I will be utterly concentrated on my momentary purpose; I take a deep breath, so I can feel the coolness of the air inside my lungs, its freshness energizing my mind exactly the way I want it to. Then, with utmost care, I let my fingertips hesitantly touch the oil painting- my skin there feels instantly the some roughness of the old paint on the canvas, yet the sensation seems oddly soothing… and then, I let the words fill my mind with firm gentleness:

_Spiritual Magic._

A sudden, yet soothing warmth momentarily grazes the skin of my fingers, and then it faints, signaling exactly how I succeeded in the little task in hand; I smile to myself inwardly and the open my eyes, instantly looking up to Professor McGonagall, catching her tiny smile of approval. After giving me a few other instructions and a whole-hearted wish to have a good and productive school year, she takes her departure, leaving me alone to face, for the very first time, my new, little 'home' of sorts; at the forming of such a simple thought, I feel my heart being encircled by comforting balm, thus kicking a tad bit quicker my ribs due to the coziness of the moment.

"Spiritual Magic," I pronounce clearly, and after Anna's soft, gentle giggle, the entrance slides smoothly open, for the very first time showing me a tiny hint of the vast room ahead.

And vast it is! Two people are supposed to live in this part of the castle only, and the common room seems bigger than Gryffindor's one! The furniture has generally neutral colours, beige and brown, and the walls are covered either with various moving paintings and portraits or with colourful and calm to the eye tapestries. The large fireplace is already filled with the rich gold of the warm flames, which in return, gave to the entire room generously all their glory, casting their lovely, golden and pinkish shadows all over… It is like a dream, so grand and beautiful and exceptionally calm, a thing you very rarely can find in the Gryffindor common room.

As expected, on the other side of the room, there is a spiral staircase, one almost identical to the one at the Gryffindor tower, if only a bit wider. I follow the stairs almost unconsciously and I see, some short moments later, the staircase split to two; to the right, after some more steps, there was a big, wooden door with a bronze plaque on, reading 'Head Boy'; and, even though I don't need that for confirmation, a quick glance to my right shows me a reflection of the right side, only that little, bronze plaque is inscribed with the words 'Head Girl'. An essence of mere, warm pride is quite inevitable inside me, as I quickly take the required steps to approach and enter my room, my _new_ room…

And the sight just leaves me breathless and delightful…

After some very prolonged moments of wandering around my new dormitory, examining every little detail, unpacking most of my things and watching out at the lovely view of Hogwarts's lake and countryside, I decide it's time to turn in; I should be fresh and with a clear mind on my first day of the new and final, most important term. I change into my pajamas, brush my teeth and curl into the coziness of my warm, big bed. And as I turn off the lamp on my nightstand and let my head rest on the fluffy pillow, my mind instantly drowns in the too known thoughts, the good, peaceful and warm ones, blended with those of the mild melancholy and nostalgia, with that growing feeling of somewhat emptiness and loss…

Where is he; that is all my restless mind can ask and ask, especially during these times of the night, when everything is dark and distant and I'm alone and still, unable to focus on anything else but his grand, extraordinary and absolutely unique kindness and love… these things that I'm missing for a time that shouldn't be considered long, but in my heart, it seems vast, hollow and even slightly unbearable…

"R-Ron?" I whisper hesitantly in the still of the night, fearfully eager for a so anticipated and desired response… I wait and wait, but the only thing I can hear is my somewhat uneven breathing and the ticking of the clock nearby, signaling that seconds, minutes are passing without the sensation of his rich, velvety voice filling my ears and caressing my eardrums, without the feeling of his tangible warmth once again embracing me like I crave to every night, for the rest of eternity… Sometimes I consider myself so very selfish, just because I yearn to be near him again, in this so unusual, yet so wanted, contact of ours, where I always keep on expecting his presence next to me, filling with his flawlessness all my gaps and imperfections, just because he desires to do so, as well, in a procedure easier than breathing or blinking…

But, on second thought, is love really selfish? Giving so eagerly and without-second-thought your entire being to someone else, letting him do whatever he craves with it… is that an example of greed?

The some amounts of dull pain struggle me inevitably, to the point where a lump forms in my throat and my eyes sting some with unwelcome wetness. Frankly, I never guessed that such a time, such a moment would be ever experienced, not after his disclosure to me, never with him being the sole reason… but no, I cannot really blame my Ron, it is surely not his fault, he would never… He is not like that, he is not some random, hormonal teenager of today; he is a _man_ of another time, one cherished with genuineness, kindness and that beloved, dusty chivalry that is rarely found nowadays, especially of this unique, soothing kind…

No, Ron did not abandon me- he just… had his reasons to stay apart, for time indefinite…

A tiny sob manages to slip out of my lips, along with some little, rebellious droplets of salty water. I let them graze my skin till they fall from the cliff of my jaw and get absorbed by the awaiting fabric. I close my eyes tightly and gulp down deep, deep breaths, so my little heart will get a bit calm and reassured, reassured that everything will get better, that this is just a little, necessary obstacle that will eventually lead to unblemished bliss… At that tiny promise, at that little, hushed whisper of soothing, that little organ inside my ribs quits its urgent pumping and gradually falls to an even, relaxed rhythm- and that's all I need at the time being…

Being too exhausted with the day, with the duties, with the melancholic thoughts haunting my mind and probing thoroughly my well-being, it is not that hard to simply close my eyes and get lost in an outer space of wonderful nothingness… A deep breath, a light exhalation and a childish nuzzle on the pillow are all needed for me to start my wandering towards dreamland…

If only I had that wonderful, blue-eyed fellow traveler with me…

…

Excitement cannot fully explain what conquers inside my soul at the time being, as I'm sitting down at a desk near the front, awaiting with too much energy and impatience for the very new term to begin with Charms.

The too-known classroom is genuinely filled with the happy chatters of classmates that haven't met for too long and of course, didn't have the appropriate amount of time to fill each other in with all their news about that summer that has just expired. I myself exchanged some words with fellow classmates eagerly, but after some moments, the thrill of being back to class was- and still is- so huge, that I am not able to participate anymore in such activities; I'm just happy with listening to everyone else's harry ramblings, because the laughter and the excitement in everyone's words make my heart warmer and more joyous.

After not that long, I am so very glad to hear Professor Flitwick's high-pitched and good-natured voice echoing all over the classroom, thus most of the talking around it ceases with much eagerness. The tiny Professor is way too happy to see us all- he says so with a keen exclamation- and at the time he is about to start saying to us about this last year's curriculum and demands of the class, the door gently slides open.

I hear the steps clearly being taken, a thing that seems quite weird, to be honest. Another thing that also tickles my curiosity is exactly that complete lack of curio for such a sudden interruption of the lesson from my part. I want to believe that I know myself quite well, thus if I ever realized that, for some out-of-order reason, a class was interrupted, I would be so very eager to find out what is going on, but right now, all I can feel, for some unidentified reason, is that wave of warm serenity, blending so very nicely with the still apparent energy inside my spirits. With ears wide open, so I can still hear what is going on, I reach for my most favourite quill and after caressing with much care the first page of my charms' book, I start writing down, with slow motions and precision, my full name, along with my house and the year I'm in.

"Professor Dumbledore! What is the reason of your presence here?" I hear Professor Flitwick's voice; sure enough, the following words are wrapped with the wisdom and the peacefulness of the greatest wizard I have ever had the lucky chance to meet.

"I am sorry to interrupt your lesson, Filius, but there is a little announcement I would like to make myself to your students.

As you all here may know, all young wizards and witches take their letters at the age of eleven in the course of attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. However, I would like to say that we are glad to welcome to our academy a new student that will finish his education here, with all of you, at Hogwarts; he is already sorted into the house of Gryffindor and he will attend all the classes of the seventh and final year, and therefore, I would like to ask all of you to greet our new member here, welcome him warmly, despite the house you are in, and show him the hospitality of this house for all us wizs."

I listen so very carefully to Headmaster, and I have to say that I am completely astonished! A transfer student to Hogwarts; that's unheard of! But, despite how surprised and interested that piece of information got me, I still keep on my slow, deliberated moves of the wrist, making sure to write as neatly as possibly feasible all my information…

_Hermione Jean Granger, Gryffindor House, Seventh—_

"I'd like you to please welcome to our academy Mister Ronald Weasley!"

R-R-Rona… _What?_

My heart suddenly stops for a bit, my midriff stiffens for a second and the sound of my quill falling down is being captured by my buzzing ears…

Buzzing, yes… I'm sure they're buzzing, because, because just now, at that precise moment I think that I heard Dumbledore saying… saying… pronouncing that- that name…

_Ronald Weasley_…

I'm about to gasp, loudly so, or possibly to faint- I really don't know what my hyperactive, almost rebellious system is preparing for myself. My blood is all warm, pumping so very fast inside my lively veins that I can hear the pumps in my ears, clearly feeling them in my eardrums. My heart is wild, so very impatient, desiring more than anything to be set free from that horrible bounds of the body, to escape from that sudden torture of insecurity and doubt and _everything…_ How-How can I imagine such things- it's almost ridiculous! No, I love him with all my heart, with all my soul, with every tiny, little hint of my whole being, yet I shouldn't go as far as obsessing so wildly, almost sickly… Yes, I love him, I want him next to him, I simply cannot see the rest of my life without his presence near me, and yet I ought not to let my mind get like that, hearing suddenly his name in every sentence, in desperation of his so abrupt absence from my life…

Or…or is it not a figment of my despair? My heart is beating harder, my breath's held, my entire body and soul shouting at me to check, to make sure…

And I look up for the very first time since the name is possibly announced, and yet, the reactions of my body do not subside; they get wilder, if not remaining the same…

For the first time I recognize the fainting sound of clapping from the rest of the class, as they all warmly welcome the newcomer to the school- after all, we're sharing this class with the Ravenclaws. For a moment, a tiny, little millisecond, I think that I may seem rude, looking with wide eyes up, all frozen, not clapping at all; what an example I give to the rest of the students, as a Head Girl?

Yet, that little matters now, want to believe it or not, because the only think I'm able to do right now is staring up… up to _him._

Indeed, next to Professor Dumbledore, there is a boy- or better, a _young man_- standing high and calmly, looking around peacefully. Yes, even at such a distance, the aura around him is clearly one of smoothness and sooth, one of serenity that really does not, _cannot_, fit to a normal human being. He is tall, exceptionally so, and lean, and he is dressed in his Hogwarts robes, his tie of burgundy and gold neatly tied around the neckband of his snow-white shirt. His skin, well, his skin is extremely white as well, like marble or pure, fresh milk, yet that bright, smooth skin seems dusted perfectly with specks of light cinnamon, tiny freckles that bring to the man a wonderful, almost palpable innocence and beautiful essence of youth. The young man's lips seem red and full, soft to the sight and surely to the touch, forming still a peaceful, small smile that could make every bad in the world cease like it is nothing… Atop that nicely formed face, there is a strange, neat mess of sandy hair, a so stunning blend of red and gold itself, a colour not glaring, but brilliant, warm and soothing, a colour that seems so very playful with the gold of the sunbeams, so very silken and striking… But, even though all these exceptional characteristics make my heart tighter with balm and my stomach naughtier, it is not them that make my head almost dizzy with the sudden realization, all warm and astonished and bewildered at the very same second…

_This… This pair of big, round, gleaming, crystal blue eyes… _

These eyes that right now are looking straight to me, _right through me, into my very soul, deep into the depths of my blissful heart…_

The light gasp is inevitable now, yet I don't mind it, I cannot possibly care about it... Ron… Ron, my dearest, blue-eyed spirit, is _here_, somehow, in flesh, very much alive, despite the detail that he is dead for the past two hundred and eighteen years, looking at me with these serene eyes I came to adore for so long, yet now, they are accompanied with the rest of him, a presence I ever saw before, yet I immediately catch myself loving more and more…

The love for this man seemed huge and invincible to me till now, but right now, that I still shocked stare at him and feel my heart, yet again, all soothed and calm and so exceptionally warm and alive, I know for sure that our love, the entire pallet of our so pure feelings for each other is bigger, fuller, purer and much more vivid than ever, _ever _before…

All I want to do is touching him, making absolute sure that he is _really here_, all alive and smiling, already inscribing to memory his every small characteristic, breathing in his warm scent of earth and apples that is already teasing my nostrils with the loveliest way possible…

And most of all, I want to fall into his warm embrace, the one of long, strong arms, feel his balmy breath caressing my skin smoothly and ask him to talk to me, to say my name, to confess to the entire world how much he loves me, so I can say it back, so I will be able to look deep in his eyes again and say that I love him with all my self…

I still stare up to him, as he gives me another glance before looking once back towards the whole classroom, eyeing calmly the rest of the classmates with a tiny, grateful smile, a half-nod and a gentle wave of the hand. He remains silent as Professor Dumbledore leaves with a wish of a good, productive school year, as Professor Flitwick is showing him an empty seat on the front to take… just two seats diagonally from my own, too close for my heart to endure yet, yet too far away from my itching fingertips to touch him, seize him and feel him and never let him go…

"Hermione…" I hear a hissed voice, but I shrug it off with my mind- nothing else matters but his presence, still grand, brilliant and amazing. "Hermione, you ok?"

At this little, so concerned whisper, I somehow manage to unfroze and turn my head suddenly around, actually whipping it, my eyes looking, with still so daze in them, at the leaning figure of a sitting, quite alarmed Harry.

"W-What?" I only manage to choke out.

"You ok?" Harry asks me again, this time more anxiety laces his low voice. "You seem quite flashed all of the sudden…"

I avert my eyes away from his own, slightly prying ones. I know that he's just worrying for me, that he doesn't suspect a single thing, but still, I feel quite uncomfortable at the time being. "I'm alright, Harry, no need to worry… It's just, I feel quite warm, that's all."

I know that the excuse is quite lame, that Harry doesn't really buying it, that he's still a tad uneasy, but as I firmly turn my head around, watching intensely at Flitwick's resumed class, I also understand that he is not going to press on it more right now, just due to the fact that he very well knows not to occupy me for inessential things during classes.

For that, I couldn't be any more grateful right now… Because, even though I'm not _really_ paying much attention to what is said by the professor, I surely do not need any sort of distractions.

All I keep doing is wondering and musing incessantly, as well as secretly observing the one man I thought till this morning that I had lost forever…

…

The hours are flowing, steadily, yet with speed unknown. Sometimes, I feel like the minutes are expiring so very slowly, like dragging their last breath as much as feasible, too desperate to stay alive that they're struggling with everything they have on Earth… On the other hand, sometimes I feel like the seconds are participating on a running match, trying to outdo themselves and reach first the end of time… and this happens mostly when I lose myself staring at that young man with the red hair and the blue eyes, the new, so silent Gryffindor that has captured my heart long before he ever set his foot on this school…

The classes start and finish quite quickly today, but I don't really know where to blame this little, mere fact. For my part, I am quite a bit quieter than usually, just because every time I try to speak, I feel the loud thumps of my heart closing my throat and my breaths insufficient for the act of speaking. Still, my eyes remain naughty, trying at every possible second to take a glimpse of Ron, a thing that immediately brings a chain of reaction to my entire body. My mind is quite unfocused, yet I am so very glad to decipher that I'm still very much able to participate in class and even give some very right answers (and I'm also glad to say that every time I did so during the day, a pair of so known eyes was shifting to take a good, calm look of me…).

Ron, even though he comes to every single class we have with responsibility and punctuality, remains completely and utterly silent, like a mute, all the time. His deep, so smooth voice I came to worship over the years so far hasn't been heard in any of the classrooms or corridors, his kind, soft words haven't still been echoed around the ancient, stone walls- a thing that slightly disheartens me.

What am I going to do? My heart keeps pounding harder and harder, yelling to me to gather some courage and go to him, talk to him, even hug him with all the strength apparent in my tiny body… but, but I feel so shy, so… disorientated… I want to do so many things, all at once, but the lack of order and patience so very apparent inside my head, most probably for the very first time at this extend, keeps me unable to do so… and then, I feel somewhat unsure, unsure of what I should do…

Oh, Merlin, just help me!

The bell just suddenly rings, startling me a bit as it is indicating that the classes are officially over for today and that in a few hours' time we all will be attending dinner. I sigh as I close my books and gather my quills, wondering still how the day passed so quickly. As I bend down to put a few things in my bag, I just feel this odd sensation, like I'm being watched by someone… I'm not really alarmed, just confused, and I shift my pupils to look up from my current position, searching for a confirmation of such an instinct from behind my thick eyelashes.

My heart yelps instantly, as my eyes are make contact with a pair of eyes across me; clear blue, big and round, and absolutely tranquil…

My breath's lost somewhere between my throat and lungs, yet I know that I don't mind at all… I'm in Heaven now, that's for sure…

Ron is still gazing at me, his eyes so bright that the spring's sun should be envious. Then, only a millisecond later, he cherishes me with a beam so grand and beautiful that makes my knees weak and my heart more drunk... and… and I cannot… breathe…

He still smiles at me a bit more, till he suddenly averts his brilliant eyes away from me, looking for a tiny second somewhere near me, to a thing I really don't know and I don't have the mental strength to look for- all my attention is solely on him, wholeheartedly. And then, after blessing me with another, minute smile full of angelic mirth, he stands up gracefully and takes his departure silently as ever, leaving me alone and bemused…

Why… Why didn't he speak to me? I-I thought… I was sure that he would talk to me, say to me even a sacred word…

Quite sad all of the sudden, I try to put the remaining objects of mine inside my bag so I can get out of class. My hands are trembling some and are threatening to let fall everything they have in grasp. I take a deep, deep breath to tame my small amount of nerves some, maybe even shoo away any teasing sentiment of sudden sadness or disappointment, but suddenly all kinds of similar thinking are fading, as something strange catches my eye.

Right there, on top of my notebook's currently open page, I see a delicate handwriting, one that doesn't belong to me or anyone else that I know, for the matter. It confuses me quite a lot, as I don't remember anything being written there- how suddenly this appears, out of nowhere? My curiosity, among other things, snaps wide awake, and I quickly lean down to read what it is written:

_I would be exceptionally happy if you wanted to come and see me; I would like to talk to you… I will be by the fountain of the clock tower courtyard for the rest of the day…_

_Ron_

The short note makes my heart swell with the warmth and the love… He wanted to talk to me, he _wants _to see me and speak to me! Oh, of course, how could I be so immature and childish? How could I _ever_ doubt his feelings, his so solid and sincere promises?

Oh, my God, I need to see him, to lay my eyes on him, to feel him and his eyes and his scent…

I can't stand it anymore…

I push into my bag everything else that's still on the desk, uncaring of neatness or anything; the need inside my heart is too heavy, too big to ignore right now. I stand up and swiftly run, quickly planning in my mind the next step, the one that will get me closer and closer to that piece of my heart…

Come on, you thin, little legs, don't betray me now…! Run faster!

My breaths are coming out as gasps already, as I'm climbing up the grand staircase, trying with all my power to reach the fourth floor. My heart, with both the impatience of the oncoming meeting and the so hasty running of mine, thunders inside my ribcage, kicking the bones with wild protests, only craving for that unique sight of his, so it will eventually rest in that utter peace only _he _can guarantee to my despaired self. I eventually reach the floor and my running gets even more frenzied, if possible, as I push people that get in my way, for the moment unimportant obstacles that waste seconds of my life away from Ron. After some seemingly long and agonizing moments, I eventually see the big clock before my wide eyes, teasing me in a way I never expected. The sight, however, manages also, somehow, to give some sort of power to my legs, and despite the quite sharp, shooting pains in my side, I keep on my running, unable to give up, not now that I'm so close to fulfilling… The clock gets bigger and bigger in my sight, till I can't see it whole anymore, and that's when I abruptly turn around to catch the wooden railing of the stairs and climb them down, so I'll head to the courtyard… to _him_…

At sight of the last few remaining steps, I decide to jump, maybe gaining some time if I don't fall on my knees, or worse, on my face. Thankfully, I'm successful to the simple task in hand, and after taking the largest gulp of air yet, I hurry myself to the courtyard, towards the sound of the running water of the still-functioning fountain, in hopes of—

Oh, Circe, I have thought that my breath was lost, but no, now it is, at the plain sight…

He is here; my Ronald is here, standing so beautifully there, next to the fountain, looking behind him at a couple of birds chirping in between the leafage of the pear tree growing at the corner. My heart skips a beat or two in the brilliance of the view, as all the balm and the love and the tranquility nest again deep into my chest, and somehow, I manage to regain somewhat my breathing, even though the sight is so breathtaking… And my nostrils, as they are fluttering in their try to welcome those essential amounts of oxygen inside, they are also capturing, not the aroma of the still apparent pears nearby, but that so familiar, heart-warming scent of sweet apples and earth that makes my head almost dizzy with delight… And my ears, they are buzzing with the delight, as well, and my fingertips, these are itching with the want to be teased by the sure softness of his skin, of the warm silkiness of his hair…

My senses are getting haywire, just because Ron is here, once again next to me… yet, it so very different this time…

And then, just like he manages to sense me with a weird, sixth sense of his, Ron turns around his head towards me, his big eyes immediately falling to my face and his lips instantly morphing into a serene beam full of adoration… _adoration for me_…

And, God, I just cannot take it anymore, I just run to him, straight into his open, awaiting arms, and fall into them, a so relaxing proof that he is indeed here, that I'm not dreaming any of this, that he is really somehow alive and breathing and right now, he is tightly and lovingly embracing me for real…

I can feel his breath, warm and gentle on my cheek, on my temple… the sensation amazing, truly awesome, my heart and my head drowning in utter bliss that I cannot simply describe or even decipher…

"I finally got you, my flower…" I hear his smooth, warm whisper in my ear, as he finally speaks for the very first time after so long days of intolerable absence, and his words make me lightheaded with happiness I never thought of experiencing before… This… this is so much…

And I simply cannot handle the vividness of my emotions anymore, or the stimuli that encircle wholly, body and soul… So I simply give in to the momentary, sweet weakness, and slowly, everything gets out of focus, till blackness engulfs me…

* * *

><p><em>-Well, that's it! They're together for good this time! I really hope you all enjoyed the outcome, but still, there is a lot to come in their new-born kind of relationship... On another note, I'd like to apologise for any sort of mistakes... sometimes, I just get too tired for a complete proof-reading...<em>

_-And really, what your little author asks right now is to write down your opinion in a so worthy review... That means really a lot to the tired author... :)_

_-Honestly, this time I'll try harder to get the next chapter up more quickly... yet, no promises made! Anyway, see you around the next time! :)_


	3. The Wonderful Unreal Of Reality

**Author's Note: **Hi everyone! Here's another chapter of the story. Shortier than the previous ones, this one really doesn't go further with the plot- maybe only a tad bit- but I wanted to write such a chapter only to show the re-introduction of sorts between Hermione and 'human-Ron'; it contains some fluff- or mild fluff, I can't tell for sure- and at some points, Hermione may be a tiny bit OOC- not entirely sure of it, as well; I guess that depends on everyone's perspective. As for Ron, remember: he is not exactly that Ron that Rowling was referring to; this Ron lived during the 18th century, was grown up with different beliefs and manners... so if he seems at times- many times, but not at ALL times- too much gentle or kind or MILD, for goodness's sake, this is just him, because he grew up under different circumstances. I really try, to be honest, to give him moments that will be as much as feasible closer to the original Ron, but frankly, that's not always obtainable in this fic; that's one of the 'characteristics' of this story... Either way, I still hope you all like this chapter, more or less...

And I'll just let you read now... Enjoy! :)

_~The Blue-eyed Spirit~_

_The Wonderful Unreal of Reality_**  
><strong>

Even though I feel my head quite heavy, slightly drowning in dizziness, I manage, ever so slowly, to open my eyelids, so a blurred image of my surroundings will present to me. At first, all I can make out is the semi-darkness of the room, stained only by the lovely gleams of some candles or oil lamps- for that I'm not sure- and some whiteness that should be explained as a visible part of the ceiling; right now, I fully decipher my horizontal state, as well as the agreeable softness of a pillow and a mattress. But then, as my sight regains more and more focus, another, so pleasant sight comes into a view:

The serene, smiling, pale face of an already-so-familiar angel that is staring down at me…

"R-Ronald?" I croak out, my voice, embarrassingly so, hoarse like unused for months, weak like it shouldn't be; Ron just smiles wider down to me and I'm quite certain that I hear a so soft chuckle coming from his throat as well.

"Are you any better now?" he asks me gently, his big, lively eyes never leaving me from their sight. "You got me quite scared back then, if you want my honesty…"

I sigh at his words as I feel my cheeks getting warmer under his gaze and due to the meaning of his saying; I know it is Ron, who knows me better than anyone, but having him around in flesh, all of the sudden, just like that, and with our very first meeting of sorts leading to my fainting, I can admit that I feel quite humiliated…

I try to sit up on what seems to be my bed, but as the sudden motion succeeds on staining my vision with dizzying, black spots all over, I think again of it; Ron seems to think along these lines, as well, as I instantly feel his warm, soft hand touching gently my shoulder, kindly pushing me back down to the softness of the mattress.

"You shouldn't make any abrupt moves just now; you should just lie down for a bit, rest some," he advises smoothly, his eyes caring, yet quite serious, so very bright as the casts of the candles' light are mirroring and playing on his sapphire orbs. I look at him carefully, absorbing with all I have every little detail of his characteristics, of his genuine beauty.

"I'm already better," I say out loud to him, even though I know somehow that the pair of us understand that my statement isn't that solid; Ron just smiles soothingly down to me, for a moment just sitting silently next to me and watching me. Then, as soft as a whisper, I feel foreign skin caressing my temple with utmost tenderness that warms my body calmingly, wonderfully. But suddenly, ever so suddenly, as I'm savouring the peace of the most precious moment while drowning in the smoothness of my bed, curio pops into my mind and my eyes, which all the while were steadily drooping close, snap open with wonder.

"How, for the love of Merlin's wisdom, did you manage to come here, to enter the Heads' Tower? How did you know the password, how-?" I start spilling out my made-in-the-process questions to him, momentarily unable to see his reactions to my, most probably incredulous rambling; a moment later, though, he chuckles gently and cuts me off.

"Calm down, Hermione," he tells me kindly, and I somehow manage to do so- I suspect that it has solely to do with the way my name comes out from his flawless lips. "It is not difficult for me to know what's on your mind, my beauty… I practically lived in your mind and heart for three-or-so years, so it was not that hard for me to know the password…" he explains calmly while having a quite humorous beam on his pale face; at the words, I feel my own face getting pinker than before, just because I realize the full meaning of his few words- my heart begins to beat a tad faster… "Besides, it was bound to happen, me knowing the password; I'm the Head Boy, after all."

Well, _these _words manage to bring a shock bigger than the previous one. "You… You are—Head B-Boy?"

His smile widens in so naïve glee. "Yes, that is my other, little surprise to you, I guess… You know, when I came to Dumbledore, asking him if I could possibly attend Hogwarts for my last year, I shown him my _teacher's _feedback and he thought that, as my academic performance, per se, was so good, I ought to become the year's Head Boy… let me share with you, though, my high suspicions of Dumbledore might know, in a way, about… about the reason of my presence here."

Well, that manages to bring a whole new meaning to the word 'shock' for me. "What?"

"Dear, Albus Dumbledore is known for his tremendous intelligence and wisdom, isn't he? However bizarre it is, I won't really be astonished if he realizes, more or less, the reason I asked to come here, or that, in fact, the whole stack of papers I shown him a few days ago is just a pile of bewitched, old newspapers…" Ron speaks softly, his eyes more serious as he explains to me his logical thoughts. At that, I can't help it but nod at him, knowing that, however eerie it is, it isn't that impossible for Dumbledore to recognize the truth…

Oh, I think I'm blushing even harder now, comprehending fully that Dumbledore chose Ron as the year's Head Boy, only to… spend more time with me…

"Do you a need a glass of water, Hermione?" Ron asks me gently, his eyes showing a bit of concern in their shimmering depths. "You seem a lit bit flushed at the moment."

"Oh, no, I'm certainly alright, thank you, Ron," I rush and he nods in understanding, all the while giving me a tiny, so sweet smile; at that I unconsciously sigh and Ron chuckles good-naturedly.

"I really think that you should get some proper rest, now; it's already getting late and you should be bright and fresh for tomorrow, am I right?" he suggests softly and after a minute moment of his fingertips touching my cheek- and I'm sure I feel a shiver all the way through my spine at that- he stands up from his seat on my bed, already taking his departure.

"Ron, wait!" I exclaim as I watch his hand resting on the doorknob, as I feel my heart kicking wildly my ribs in protest of his unbearable, soon-to-be absence. At my comment, he turns around fast, looking at me with wide eyes.

"What is it? Is something wrong?" he asks earnestly. I stare at him for a moment, feeling all warm and safe in his presence, but still so very hesitant about what I'm thinking of asking him.

"Could… Could you please sleep with me tonight?" I mutter shyly, quite afraid right now of his most probable rejection. I close my eyelids tightly, waiting…

"If that's what you want, of course, my dear Hermione," he replies nobly, making my eyes snap open in both astonishment and pure happiness. "Just let me go and wear my nightwear and then I'll keep you company for the night, maybe embrace you goodnight?" He smiles kindheartedly and I cannot fight the identical smile on my own lips.

"That would be lovely… Thank you, Ron."

"Always in your services, milady," he says and bows a bit, the motion not one of mockery, but one of honest truth and care.

And as he leaves for his own room, I cannot help but grinning, knowing that, at long last, I'll hear his lovely response to my goodnight wishes after so many days of near deafness…

…

"So, tell me, what do you think of Hogwarts so far?"

The particular question teased the tip of my tongue since the moment my brain cells fully realized that Ron had set foot on Hogwarts. And right now, as another day of classes became past, I'm sitting with Ron under a willow tree just next to the lake, simply enjoying the last few good days of the early autumn, as well as the newly found company of each other. I turn my head around to look up at him, also admiring his handsome profile. A second later, he turns around as well, his whole face lightning up with the most angelic of smiles.

"Well, it certainly provides the right amount of hospitality and warmth, without really losing its air of a proper academy…" Ron replies slowly, his eyes wandering at the huge, light blue expand of the lake, only he knowing what he's thinking about. "It is just as perfect as you always mentioned it, Hermione…" he muses further and I feel his right hand gradually moving towards mine, long fingers ever so slowly covering inch by inch the expand of my hand's skin, caressing it with care that resembles the loyalty of a faithful man on a holy temple… I feel warmer and more blessed than ever as I intertwine our fingers, long and small, in a blissful bond.

"You've never been to Hogwarts before…" I say out loud after a moment, my words more of a statement rather than a question towards Ron; despite that, he nods in response, waiting for me to continue patiently. "So, have you been educated by a private teacher?"

"Yes, all of my siblings and I studied magic at home; Mum and Dad used to teach us lots of the essentials, but there were also a couple of professors coming home and completing what our parents were doing… It was quite alright for all of us and we certainly learnt a lot."

"And what about friends?" I ask further, very fascinated to dip deeper and deeper to a whole new world, one that's barely discovered before now. "I mean, you didn't attend to a school, so how did you manage to make some?"

"Oh, but there was quite the bunch of children at our little town, and we knew each and every one of them, befriended them, spent a lot of time with them… Actually, I don't believe that there was any child that was left out by all the others; more or less, we all were a big companionship, and very happy to be so." Ron tells me casually as he lets the back of his head rest on the hard of the old tree, his eyes momentarily cast up towards the swaying leafage. I sit here, right next to him, all silent in fears of ruining one of the most serene moments I've ever lived, and I observe his face, all pale, freckly and peaceful, his eyes big, blue and so innocent that for a moment I am wondering if there is a chance, somehow, for him to slip into this reminisced time of childhood, body and soul. Seconds, moments, minutes, only God knows how much time passes before us in that complete stillness of everything, yet I don't really mind, and Ron seems to feel exactly the same, as our hands are entwined, as his thump is ever so slowly caressing my hand and wrist, as my head is slowly leaning to eventually rest on his shoulder, a motion that he doesn't seem to mind, but quite the opposite, as he takes our bonded hands to rest on his lap, thus now both of his hands are able to touch, to praise really, my so delighted skin.

Is this Heaven? I wouldn't be surprised if it actually was.

After another period of unknown time, I suddenly part my lips, even though the voice comes out from them slow, unhurried, not wanting to disturb the still of the nature.

"Please, tell me more about yourself, your life before… I never really had the chance to see this part of you…"

Ron remains silent for a second, even though his fingers are still stroking on my hand. "I will tell you, Hermione, of course I will, but today is not a day for sharing all those things… is that alright with you?" he says lowly to me and then he asks that little question to me with such hesitation that I can only smile brightly at his abrupt coyness and sort of self-conscience.

"Of course, Ron; whenever you're ready," I reassure him gently, still smiling to him to show him that I'm completely alright with it. As a response, Ron smiles at me in return, squeezes my hand lightly and then, without really expecting it, he dips his head a bit, so his lips would rest and kiss my head; the action, even though simple enough, manages successfully to make my little heart all hyperactive and giddy again.

After more moments of silence between us, Ron speaks once again: "What do you think of going back to the castle, find the required books in the library and then go to our dormitories, sit by the fire and do that Herbology essay?"

My head turns around to face him abruptly, as I'm quite unsure that I've just heard him correctly… He… He wants to do homework… willingly? Harry never wants to do that, if not absolutely necessary! No one I can think of right now really wants to- maybe with the exception of some Ravenclaws! And Ron right now—

"Have you just suggested for us to go and do homework?" I ask him instantly, some teasing disbelief lacing my voice, one eyebrow unconsciously shot up on my forehead; Ron just chuckles with mirth as he looks down to me.

"Yes, that's right… but only if you want to…" he tells me back, some teasing in his tone, as well; I cannot help but laugh quite loudly at that.

"So… So you're completely serious?"

"Absolutely- why shouldn't I be?" At his incredulous tone, I laugh more and the corners of his lips seem to twist a bit upwards at it.

"Oh-Oh, Ron…" I manage somehow to choke out in between my quite unreasonable, yet utterly welcomed, hysterics. "You are from another world!"

"Don't I know?" he exhales with a good laugh, looking at me and slightly shaking his head good-naturedly; then, we both lose it, laughing quite hard, almost doubling over and shed tears of glee; it's totally absurd, yes, but still amazing.

"C-Come, on, let's go then!" I exclaim through my fits of still alive giggles, and I stand up upright, dragging along with my hand a slightly-more-composed Ron. He chuckles at my somewhat childish antics, but he lets me drag him along behind him, as I run with whatever energy I have within towards the castle, way too glad due to the oncoming study session. "My quill feels surely neglected!"

Ron chuckles again and throws at me the brightest of smiles, gleaming on both his lips and eyes. "Then we should hurry and go keep it warm and safe."

"Yeah!" I cry out victoriously, now totally sure that I'm drunk from bliss and giddiness as I raise our bonded hands and arms up in the air, just to make a ridiculous point. For a moment, I think of how this behaviour must seem from the outside, all silly and childish, maybe even improper, but then, I shake my head and smile to myself, as I still feel the sensation of Ron's warm skin making contact with mine, as the sweet scent of apples and earth radiating from him fills constantly my lungs now…

I don't mind it one bit; I'm finally free.

…

The feel of the fire's heat stroking my skin, even through my clothes, is quite relaxing in the course of the quite chill night. After finishing effectively with our essays- which, for once, was not only that slightly stressful procedure, but quite of fun, as well- Ron gently dragged me down to the Great Hall for dinner- "Hermione, you should not forget about your biological needs at all- it's very unhealthy," he specifically said as we were passing the portrait of our dormitories- and after having yet again another delicious meal- with me talking to Harry, who was sitting just besides me, all the while Ron was all silent again, eating slowly and observing around with these huge, tranquilly azure eyes and that small, serene smile of his that seemed to make some shifting in their seats, for some reason. Then, as we both swallowed our last forkfuls of apple pie and I bid my goodnights around, we took our departure together, surely heading back to our common room of sorts; and that's where we are right now, comfortably sitting on the sofa, me resting happily in between Ron's long, bended legs, my back facing him as I enjoy the company of a good book and the sensation of Ron's long, slender fingers on my hair. Of course, his question was so very unexpected, but when spelled out with such gentleness and warm smoothness, the answer from my part was predictable:

"Do you want me to braid your hair?"

"Yes."

"You don't have to stop with your light reading; just let me take care of you."

And that's how the present finds me, sitting with Ron by the fire, with him stroking, brushing, styling my untamed curls all the while I read my book and suck with unnamed-for greed all the delightful sensations this man, somehow, manages to bring abundantly to me.

My heart flutters again and I sigh happily.

"All right there, Hermione?" Ron whispers to me softly as his fingers divide my hair to equal parts. I smile to myself before answering.

"Oh, yes, I'm great, and frankly, you should take the credit for that," I whisper back to him in a quite conspiratorial tone that makes him laugh for a second- even shake his head a bit.

"I'm glad that my modest tries to please you are so fruitful," he replies casually as his fingers are slowly, with careful precision, pulling my strands of hair in an attempt to make a braid. "Not too hard, I hope?"

"Oh, no, not at all- I am already fond of it, if I'd like to be honest with you and myself." And surely enough, I feel my face getting a bit hotter, and surely not due to the balmy waves fire sends our way…

Ron breathes another gentle laughter, and I'm not entirely sure if I should be reassured or embarrassed with it… but then again, this is Ron, the spirit I know for so long, so I don't believe there's any need to fret with trivial worries such as this one; the only thing that I should probably consider more seriously is how breathtaking- quite literally- his laughter is…

And right then, as I feel another gentle pull of his hands, another shivering stroke, the question pops in my mind:

"Ron, how come you know how to braid hair? It is fantastic, yet still astounding…"

Ron soundlessly strokes my hair for a moment or two, to the point that I vividly think for a second that he is possibly so absorbed in his motions that he didn't really hear me. But as I'm about to repeat my question, he speaks, voice as soft and velvety as the air during sunset:

"Nothing too spectacular, I'm afraid… I just loved- and still do during these days- observing everything around, especially the ways other people moved around me, how they worked, how they behaved… When little, I liked watching my mother braiding my sister's hair, a favourite pastime for both of them, and when time given, for reasons still quite inexplicable, I didn't want to miss it for anything in the entire world… I was observing my mother's motions very carefully, the way her wrists and fingers moved with perfection and care, how much strength she put in her hands, the right amount of gentleness and affection she put in the particular endeavor… It was so flawlessly natural and stunning, like from that little touch all the love existent in the universe steamed contentedly, whole-heartedly and embraced us… just because you offer to do such a little thing, or gladly accept to do it because it is just as lovely for you, a little way to show how much you care without using words… And, you know, as a little child, I was certainly overwhelmed with it, and then determined to learn, just by watching, how to do it myself. In the next years, I offered my services to my sister a few times and I can humbly say that her smile was a big enough of a thanking gesture, in return…"

His words are underlined in the end with a tiny, almost inaudible sigh and after that, Ron decides to continue with his little doing. But, honestly, this time his fingers pull my attention quite less, not because they are less gentle or something, but just because the silky movements of his are now perfectly blended with the still alive echoes of his so grand words, words truly poetic, spoken with utter care and sincerity, washed with the fondness and the purity that, somehow awesomely, managed to remain intact during these eons that Ron's spirit also managed to remain alive like a spark… It is all here, a simple act of God that shouldn't ever be hidden or forgotten, because acts or words like these must be the ones that make the world go still round.

My eyes, surely enough, are drowning in my slowly-produced tears, as my bottom lip is starting to quiver a bit. I bit it, then a bit harder, as I don't want to ruin the perfect atmosphere around us with my silly sentimentalism…

…but the tinniest of sobs comes out.

"Hermione, are you alright, dear? Did I pull your hair too hard this time?" Ron asks me the instant he catches my little sob, his voice still smooth, yet doubtlessly interlaced with some level of concern; I shake my head for a moment before managing to reply to him.

"No, of course not; it's just… y-your words, they really got me…" I whisper to him, my own voice drowned in heavy emotion that right now I cannot wholly tame. "They… They were beautiful…"

For a millisecond, or it's just me, I feel Ron's hands freeze in between my locks of hair. Then, he softly resumes his gentle procedure, all the while I sense his body heat engulfing me more now, coming closer to me, till it almost reaches me and touches me…

His lips, warm and silky, kiss my temple tenderly, so my heart eagerly jumps in the ocean of ecstasy and my mind drowns in the enormity of blissful daydreaming. His lips then pull away just a millmetre, so they only brush my skin faintly, and I can feel them then pull apart, in the course of freeing words I'm confident will take my breath away.

"No, _you_ are beautiful and the universe around you just because of the very same reason… My words are just the outcome of my tremendous fortune, the inspiration that naturally steams when I sense you next to me… You and your love is all I need, Hermione, to be me… and that is the reason I came here, nothing else."

My heart bursts with the vastness of a bliss and a love I never expected to savour in my early years; when grown up with reason as your very best company, with logic and sensibility to be your faithful followers in life, you do not surely underestimate the power of sentiment- especially of one as powerful as love-, but you, without doubt, do not expect it to be a ruler of your life, you do not believe in it being the little something that makes everything right and complete in you.

Yet, as I am here, in the middle of the Head Prefects' common room, I realize just once more, and in the most wonderful way possible, how much love really means, how it makes everything just right and complete.

I try to take a deep breath, just to compose myself, so I won't ruin one of the most beautiful moments in my still unrolling life; Ron, being the kind spirit he always is, wraps one arm around me, the other's hand stroking slowly the top of my head. With the feeling of his body close to me, actually touching me, and with that familiar, faint scent of his in my nostrils, I manage to gather my wits easily, to become calm and stable again, in a way that Ron somehow manages to do many times… I wouldn't be surprised if he actually put his hand for it to happen…

When eventually composed, I let that huge breath leave the bounds of my body, so another one- one of almost revival, really- will fill my lungs to the top. As the light gasp of the inhalation echoes slightly in the air around us, I feel Ron shifting a bit in his seat, so he sits slightly next to me right now, facing me with his ever calm eyes- I don't hesitate this time to look back at him.

He smiles encouragingly to me and his eyes light up more than the sun itself. I smile myself, the sight of his face comforting and utterly soothing to the heart and to the soul- it is beautiful. Then, his hand comes up to rest on my face, the fingers, ever so slowly, rub my skin so the few droplets of my emotional overreaction will disappear. The sensation of his skin on mine never ceases to bring sweet tachycardia to me, another reaction of the body that I come to handle easily now, especially when he looks effortlessly so deep into my eyes, making me feel not uncomfortable, but loved and serene like always.

"I love you."

And with these three words breathed by him, I feel perfect and complete, almost invincible.

"I love you too," I whisper to him, meaning the words with all my heart since I came to understand every little drop of them; his beam, in response, is more than heavenly.

He dips his head slowly then, so he can rest his lips, balmy silk, on my forehead, just above my eyebrow; I feel light, I feel like I'm the air, I'm the earth, like I'm everything, and Ron is always bonded, _blended_ with me…

"Let me finish that braid of yours, while you relax," Ron says then, cherishing me yet again with another dazzling smile of his; I smile back at him and nod, closing my eyes so I can drown more easily to the sea of emotions and sensations. The softness of his gentle pulls and strokes on my hair is amazing, giving faint shivers all over my spine and body, giving me a kind of peaceful energy I never knew it existed before- it's ideal and I start humming with pleasure.

"You hum?" Ron asks with curiosity, a kind humour blending nicely with it. I laugh slightly and nod.

"Oh, yes, when I feel warm and relaxed… almost sleepy…" I realize further in the end, as a little yawn threatens to make an appearance.

"Then, sleep- I surely do not mind," Ron tells me casually as he keeps on braiding my hair, lower and lower in my back. "I'll just keep making your hair."

"Alright then," I whisper back to him, as that toasty, so sweet sensation is already pulling me down, to a softer, nicer place, where I still keep curling in between his arms. Blackness surely engulfs me, but this dark is nice, velvety, soothing to the spirits and the tired mind…

Everything is just right, especially when the last words before dipping completely in the warmth of black are coming from that silky voice…

"Goodnight, my beauty."

* * *

><p><em>-So, I really, really hope you all liked it. Really, these were just some sweet moments between them, with a bit of explaining in the beginning... but still anyway, something I'm quite glad I wrote!<em>

-_And, of course, this is the beloved time when you all press that little button and leave your so worthy REVIEWS! Reviews are love, as some say, and certainly, I wouldn't mind some from you all! :)_

_-Thank you for following me so far; I'll try to upload the next one pretty soon, as well, but not promises made, as my internet service is quite screwed at the time being... Wish me luck with that and I really hope I'll "see" you all soon... :)_


	4. Birthday Surprises

**Author's Note:** Hello everyone! I know that an immense apology is in need, due to the lack of uploading for almost a year. Life got really hectic, and along with a ridiculously prolonged writer's block, the outcome was this. At least, I hope there are some of you still there and still want to read this story.

Anyways, chapter four is here, and I believe I should warn you about some things. Remember, this is a** totally AU story**, meaning that **OOCs are** **inevitable.** As formerly said, Ron may act differently due to his different upbringing, but still I try to put some more Ron-canon-like characteristics here and there. Moreover, I am quite certain that some of you may find Harry's behaviour weird, but this is an Alternate Universe and characters tend to react differently from canon (also, there's an explanation for his behaviour later on). This may also 'count' for Hermione's various behaviours, as well as both her relationships with Harry and Ron.

A big 'thank you' to **ObssessedRHShipper** for proofreading this story and for her great suggestions! :)

So... enjoy! :)

_The Blue-eyed __Spirit_

_~Birthday Surprises~_

"Happy birthday, Hermione!"

The so usual wish stems from every possible angle every few moments, as I'm heading to my first class after a wonderful breakfast… and how could it not be? There was pumpkin juice, fresh toast, butter and strawberry jam, grapes and even some croissants! And, of course, Ron was there, right next to me, just like right now.

Oh, and I'm officially eighteen today, but, frankly, it's only a minor factor in my happiness; there are much greater things to probe and arise such a beloved sentiment, isn't that right? I smile brightly to myself and I can certainly sense Ron's curious eyeing and small, humorous smile shouting that little question that his voice doesn't pronounce. I glance at him from the corner of my eye and shrug a bit before mumbling innocently that I'm just gleeful; at that, he shakes his head and chuckles, all the while entrapping with two of his long fingers one of mine, for just a second, so it could be so easily mistaken as a tiny accident during side-by-side walking… even if I know better than that.

"You're insufferable, Mr. Weasley," I murmur with false annoyance as I feel my heart skipping a beat, my lungs being momentarily thirstier for some cool air and my skin hungrier for some more of his gentle touches. The redhead just breathes an almost mute laughter before thanking me, almost teasingly, for such complimentary words.

Oh, the little… he can be so teasing at times, that I want to whack the back of his head so hard, it-

Oh, who am I kidding? I love that little, Welsh git with all my heart! And especially now, now that I can observe more aspects of him, other, different sides that were never shown to me till now, during that tangible presence…

"Hermione, please, hurry up; I want to be in class on time!" His voice, more teasing deep-down in the vibes of seriousness, probes me too much to ignore; I glare at him before quickening my pace to reach him.

"Oh, you'll get it bad, Mr. Weasley!"

…

"I'll get these up to the dormitory and whenever you want, just come so we can start with the essay- is that ok?"

I startle horribly and gasp, abruptly being taken out of my focus on a volume about advanced Transfiguration by his smooth words; I look up to him with still wide eyes full of surprise, breathing deeply in meager hopes of evening my crazy heartbeats. Ron chuckles good-naturedly to me for a millisecond.

"Alright there?" he asks gently, watching me with his almost round eyes, and I start feeling my heart pound slower, calmer. "Didn't scare you much, did I?" At this, I chuckle to myself.

"You scare me? Oh, not at all," I tell him quite playfully, smiling brightly up to him, even though I believe wholeheartedly every word I spell out- the mere notion of associating Ron with fear is just absurd. "Just too focused on the book, that's all." He smiles to me understandingly.

"Of course," he whispers lightly, letting out a short-lived, muted laughter while staring at me. "Always these beloved, precious books of yours…" he continues as his hand, big and warm, cups my cheek lovingly; I have to put some great effort as to not close my eyes and drown in the sensations.

"Jealous much?" I whisper back to him after a second, trying to ignore as much his soothing touch in order to look teasing- he deserves it, after all, being so teasing himself.

"Oh, not at all… I just wouldn't dare to put myself in the way between you and books; it would be a suicide mission, more or less," he answers quickly, his eyes gleaming more and more with childish mischief I've never expected to witness in there, if I want to be honest (although, I have to also admit that I don't mind it one bit).

"Who are you and what've you done with Ron Weasley?" I ask him humorously, trying quite hard to swallow my oncoming fit of laughter, all the while looking up to him from between thick, dark eyelashes; his smile gets wider and brighter, if possible.

"It's the very same person; I've just thought I should hide some sides of mine so I can always surprise you." I cannot help the giggle here.

"Just say you wanted to make a good first impression, mister." He smiles even more dazzlingly to me, to the point I feel my knees all weak and wobbly.

"But that wouldn't seem to boost my image now, would it?" he keeps on his light teasing, but before I have a chance to respond, he keeps talking, this time his voice silkier and less joking. "Just finish with your reading and when ready, come upstairs, okay? I'll be waiting."

"Alright," I say, even though the whisper is shaking so much… I feel Ron stepping even closer to me, his body almost touching mine, his hand still covering my cheek and making my skin tingling with pure delight… His head is leaning closer to my own, his crystal blue eyes never stop staring deep into my own, and I wonder if… if I'm just about to taste…

With a weird sense of bittersweet, I feel his lips lingering on my forehead, just above my left eyebrow. It's not that I don't cherish these flawless actions of respect and affection; they always manage to warm my chest and get my logic and heart drunk, always lulling me into pleasantness… It's just… I yearn so much for the knowledge of his taste, of how his lips, all warm and soft and gentle would feel against mine, of how they would behave in another act of tangible adoration…

Suddenly, I hear a quite discreet cough from somewhere near us and I turn my head around, just along with Ron, to see who it is. A very small blush of embarrassment comes to rest on my cheeks as I see Harry before us, looking at the pair of us carefully, a quite unreadable expression on his face and in his emerald eyes.

"Harry!" I greet him immediately, taking a few steps towards him as I give him a true smile. He eyes me for a second before his eyes travel to rest behind me, to watch Ron even more observantly.

"Hello Harry," I hear Ron's kind voice, friendly and calm in one of the very few verbal greetings- maybe even the first one- towards my best friend. With the corner of my eye I see Ron smiling a bit to Harry, as he gathers the armful of books and takes a few steps towards us in his usually slow pace; in return, Harry just grunts something incomprehensible, a thing that shocks me so much, that I stare with wide eyes at him. I believe I would stare at my friend for a whole eternity, trying to figure out his suddenly inexplicable behaviour, if it wasn't for the sound of Ron's voice filling the air once more.

"Don't worry about me, Hermione; just take your time, yes?" I snap my eyes to him, watching for a moment before eventually managing to turn back to my more relaxed state and giving him a tiny smile before replying.

"Alright, I'll see you later!" At that, he smiles once again, nods to the pair of us and exits the library, leaving me with a quiet, still slightly watchful Harry. I have to admit that this behaviour of his is quite new to me, but I try to shrug it off for now, and instead I smile to him brilliantly, taking more steps closer to him. "Harry, how are you?" At my words, he seems to snap out of his deep thinking and then attempts a smile of his own.

"Happy birthday, Hermione," he wishes, and I am very glad to hear the so known, desired warmth in his voice, as well as see it in the black depths of his eyes. My smile gets wider and I rush to him for a big hug.

"Oh, thank you so much, Harry!" I say lowly, reminding to myself that we're still in library, thus no loud, or even normal talking allowed. "Let's get out of the library so we can talk more freely." Harry certainly seems to have no problem with this, so I take my bag and we head towards the exit, but not before I throw a look full of longing back to the table, where that Transfiguration book is lying… Ah, I guess I'll have to read it with another opportunity…

Harry must have seen that stolen look, because, first chance out of the library, he starts laughing heartily.

"You and your love for books! Oh, dear, you're impossible!" he exclaims as we keep walking down the corridor, destination still unknown. I throw him a false glare and, fortunately for him, he stops with his laughter.

"I don't see anything wrong with some light reading," I say nonchalantly and I can definitely sense his eye-roll at that. For a moment afterwards, we just walk in comfortable silence, just enjoying the familiar presence of each other nearby; then, Harry halts all of a sudden, a small, slightly sly smile on his lips.

"What is it, Harry?" I furrow my eyebrow as his smile brightens amazingly at my confusion.

"You're so naïve at times…" I hear him mutter sweetly, shaking his head with gleeful disbelief; I feel quite irritated and even more confused at this, and I take another step closer to him, opening my mouth to say a few things to him, but he is quicker than I am, and reaches for something from his bag.

"Do you honestly think that I wouldn't give you a birthday present?" he laughs, all the while his hand emerges from his bag, revealing a paper bag along with it. I gasp slightly and I stare at it for a couple of seconds, then look up to his sparking, emerald eyes.

"Dear, I didn't… when… how…?" Well, I'm certainly speechless and Harry chuckles at that.

"Oh, stop with the interrogation and come and get it already!" he exclaims with mock annoyance, even though he does nothing to hide that big, boyish smile of his. I laugh at him and run straight into his arms, hugging him tightly.

"Oh, Harry… thank you so much! There was certainly no—"

"No need to buy you a present?" he ends my sentence so right. He pulls slightly away from our hug so he can peer at my face, and when he sees my weak, shy nod, he shakes his head. "Please, Hermione, of course I need to give you a present! Now just stop talking nonsense already and take it!" he continues as he sees that I'm about to protest once again. At his last words though, all I can feel and think of is his warmth, as well as the immense luck of having him as my best friend. Cherishing him with a huge smile that I hope shouts all my feelings for him, I slowly pull myself away from his arms, so I can take the bag from his hand. I observe it for a moment, then glance back at Harry, who instantly nods at me to open it already, surely slightly anxious about my oncoming reaction. I eventually open the bag and take out the material, which appears to be somewhat thick and woolen; then, as it is out and in my visibility range, I take a good look of it and a gasp is inevitable.

"Oh, dear Circe... that's... how did you-?" Once again, I feel quite disappointed due to my inability to articulate, but, honestly, this beautiful, grey jacket...

"Come on, Hermione!" Harry exclaims with false impatience, yet I can very clearly see the beam on his face. "I saw how you were almost drooling over that jacket at our last Hogsmeade visit, and I knew it would be a quite decent birthday present-"

"'Quite decent'? Are you joking, Harry? This is such a great present... Thank you so very much, Harry..." At this, Harry smiles to me even more brightly and comes to me for another, bear hug.

"It's really nothing, sis; you absolutely deserve it, as so much more."

And this is the rare occasion when Harry says something like that, so deep and sensitive and certainly sincere, and upon hearing it, I can get exceptionally sentimental... more or less, like right now...

"Oh, Harry... you're turning me into a mush of sentimentalism right now..." At this, we both start laughing like mad, and let me tell you, it is quite difficult to stop, even after a whole minute passing.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake…" Harry declares breathlessly, one hand clutching to his stomach as he's taking huge inhales in order to even out his breathing and eventually subside his laughter; doubled over with my own giggles, I try to copy his antics. "That was a good laugh, Hermione! What do you say we go out, by the lake or something, and have some fun? We haven't had a good talk or whatever for some time now and the weather is really great!" His words hold a warm feeling in my heart, and, at first, I'm ready to exclaim my acceptance, but then I remember that Ron is waiting for me upstairs. Even though he said that I could take my time, I think it is definitely rude to keep him waiting without knowing how long a time it would be- most probably the entire afternoon! But then, an excellent idea pops into my mind- yes, of course!

"I'm sorry, Harry; your idea is great, but I promised earlier to Ron that we will study together. How about you come and join us in the Heads' dormitories? That way, we can all spend time together, and we can forget about homework for today! I'm sure that Ron won't mind and that is the perfect opportunity for you and—"

I know that I fell into my rambling mode because of my new-found excitement- just imagine though, how much of a great time Harry, Ron and I will have together- but suddenly, Harry's sour expression and furrowed eyebrows make me stop, looking up to him with pure confusion.

"'_Ron'_?!" Harry repeats the name, however his tone is unlike mine; he is dressing the syllable with a bitter attire full of disbelief that makes my eyebrows shoot up in my forehead. "I see that you are fairly accustomed to his company, aren't you, Hermione?" The slight accusation in his tone makes me even more perplexed, and frankly, I start to feel a little bit upset, as well.

"W-What is that supposed to mean, Harry? He _is _the Head Boy, is in our year _and_ is a Gryffindor, and he is certainly a very good person, so why are you behaving like this? I don't see anything wrong with spending time with him!"

Harry lets out an outrageous laugh. "You're out of your mind, Hermione, aren't you? He is a weird one, that is for sure! He barely speaks to anyone, he is always so slow and he looks around and peers at everyone with those big eyes and that eerie, little smile of his, like he's… like he's on something!" Listening to all of these, I just stand there, eyes wide with shock, both to Harry's tone and words- especially his words! I feel my anger start to rise up and some sense of injustice is starting to graze my neck, slowly making its handle tighter and tighter, to the point of strangling me.

"You're- You're being positively ridiculous, Harry! I don't understand what your problem is- where the heck did all these absurd things you've just spelled out come from! You- You don't even know the boy and you start making assumptions; that… that is completely out of character, Harry!"

"But it is not only me, Hermione- everyone believes so! Everyone who has eyes can see that he is odd; he has some problem!"

"Oh, yeah, like _having big eyes_ and _looking around_ is weird! Maybe we should take his eyes out so he can go back to normal! Seriously; thinking that he _is on something_…! I cannot believe you, Harry!"

"Yeah, well, maybe you should start! Just- Just watch his behaviour! He is _creepy_!"

"Or, _maybe_, he is just shy! But, of course, why should _anyone_ think of such a ridiculous possibility! There's a new lad at school- surely he is hiding a dark past or something!" I shout at my best friend, unable to just wholly comprehend what is being spoken at the moment. How- How can they not _see?_ Accusing Ron of being _creepy_… it's- it's outlandish! Harry just scoffs at my words.

"Oh, Hermione, you're just being you right now; naïve and always giving people chances even though the truth is clear and glaring!" Harry almost shouts and his words hit me more than I would ever imagine. And that little word… _naïve_… this time, I know, it is not meant to be funny or complimentary.

"_Naïve_?! Y-You're calling me naïve because I keep company with another student! Since when is it prohibited to have other company besides yours, Harry?"

Harry stares at me with eyes all wide, most probably from shock due to my own words. "I never forbid you from having your own friendships, but listen to yourself! He's brainwashed you already!" Now, it is my time to look all wide-eyed to him, to a point which I can feel my eyes almost out of their sockets. I take a very deep breath, then another one, so I won't take out my wand and do something I'll wholeheartedly regret in a couple of hours.

"Harry, I believe that you are behaving out of character right now," I speak slowly and as composed as I can be at the precise moment. "I think it's best if we part our ways for today and speak again when you are more composed and are thinking more clearly; I need to be more collected and less tired to handle properly such… such arguments of yours…"

Harry just stands there for a moment, observing me with his emerald eyes very closely, and most probably for the very first time in my entire life, I feel quite uncomfortable under his stare. "You're going to him, aren't you? Don't want him to wait too long, heh?" His voice is slow and collected, but I can clearly sense the upset underneath; I exhale loudly in return, suddenly feeling very worn out.

"Harry, just… please, don't be like this…" He must sense my exhaustion, or must see at least, something, because he just lets a lungful of air out and nods once numbly, before muttering some words.

"Don't think that this is over, though, Hermione." Fortunately or not, I know Harry too well, and I know that he means these words. I decide not to respond to that, because I know that I don't have much more mental strength to keep up with this. I glance up to him and then I feel the need to get out of his sight, as the whirl of his echoing words and accusations is making my head slightly dizzy, the back of my eyes stingier, my throat a tad tighter…

"Thanks for the gift, Harry," I whisper, raising a bit the paper bag as a further indication of my frail statement. "I'll see you. Goodnight."

And before he has the chance to say anything more, I turn around and start walking quite fast, letting my shoes make as much noise as possible against the ancient stone, in a desperate hope that the echoes of such a sound would disturb my mind and take away the so sudden, so unexpected and slightly frightening thoughts that cruelly made their way into my head.

_He is creepy! He's brainwashed you already!_

The shouts of Harry's words are being enhanced in my head, echoing deeply and still buzzing in my ears hurtfully. This is not Harry; _this cannot be Harry_. He was never like this before, except with people that really deserve it- namely, Draco Malfoy- but something like this… I still cannot comprehend his tone, his…

_He is a weird one, that is for sure! He's on something!_

A sob is escaping my mouth and unconsciously, my pace gets faster and faster, 'til I am running towards the Head Prefects' dormitories without truly realizing it. My breathing is all erratic and loud and my chest is aching much, but I don't think all the blame can be put on my running…

Ron, that sweet, sweet creature, one so selfless and gentle and giving and beautiful… How- How can anyone possibly think such… such indescribable things of him, when he hasn't annoyed or done something wrong or bad to anyone? How…?

The tears are burning now my eyes, screaming a permission from my part to let them spring and run down my face, burn me much more than they already do; I blink furiously, just in a so frail attempt to push them away, but the hot, salty droplets are just faster, already grazing ungracefully my cheekbones, heading inevitably towards the stony ground...

Another sob, as I turn unconsciously to a corner, and suddenly I come almost face to face with the portrait of Anna and Howard, who are now watching me with faces full of concern.

"Hermione, is something wrong? Why are you crying?" I hear Howard asking quickly, his posture one that resembles an impossible leaning towards me. I try to breathe deeper and fuller, so I can feebly compose myself, but I think I have no strength to reassure them both that I'm alright, that everything is ok… besides, that wouldn't be entirely true, would it?

"S-Spiritual… Magic," I only whisper, taking more mouthfuls of breath so I can assure a frail self-control. The painted Prefects seem not at all satisfied with my answer, but they let it go by simply allowing my entrance to a safe, secluded place; my pace is hurried and somewhat desperate, matching the one of my heart.

I take the few steps in the semi-dark corridor towards the common room with heavy, quick steps, and breaths all too noisy and unsatisfying to my hyperactive system. Before realizing, I am already in the warmly lit room, facing almost wildly around without comprehending the sights or the sweet balm of the atmosphere, and I blink furiously my watery eyes, trying to adjust them to the light of a well-stocked fire and a couple of oil lamps.

"Hermione?"

The voice startles me a bit, and as a reaction to that, I jump a little out of my skin, whipping my head towards the seeming source of such a smooth, low sound. There, sitting on the floor by the coffee table is Ron, looking up at me with eyes wider that usual and a frozen pose. I certainly had not realized his presence in the room upon entering it and I feel a bit of embarrassment for that, mostly because, even through my wild, unexpected state, I did not wish for him to see me like this.

My lack of response must worry him even more, because he instantly is up on his feet, taking a few very long and hurried strides 'til he is just a couple of steps away from me, stretching his arm towards me either with the intention of touching my arm or in silent indication for me to step into his embrace. However nice and comfortable both of these gestures would surely be to my upset spirits, I just stay rooted to the ground, only capable of facing him with wide eyes full of tears. His face spasms a bit with growing concern and his eyes grow duller and slightly darker with the current facts.

"Hermione, are you alright? Please, talk to me…" he whispers ever so gently, his voice so soft and careful, like he is worried all of a sudden that I'm going to break even with the slightest disturbance. My heart beats a bit smoother now, as, ever so slowly, the calming sight of him, as well as the echoes of his kind, so familiar voice, get settled into my system, reminding me of the serenity and the wonderful still I have experienced with him before. How he always manages to shoo away any troubling thoughts or upsetting feelings… yet, the image of him so very concerned makes that little organ spasm a bit inside my chest, so, I guess, I have to try to calm down and explain a bit, for both of our sakes.

"I'm," I try to start, but I suddenly realize that my throat is a lot tighter and my voice a lot hoarser than I have imagined. "I'm okay, I—"

"You do not seem okay at all," he cuts me off the instant I pronounce the little word, his eyebrows furrowing a bit as his head slightly leans towards me, like he wants to give the moment more privacy and importance, or something. "Please…" he sighs and exhales a huge lungful of air, this time his fingers making contact with me, barely grazing my elbow, his eyes for a moment downcast before coming to rest on mine again, all serious and desperate, "Just please, tell me what is wrong?"

I have to gasp a little, as his semi-masked despair is entrapped inside my lungs, flowing in my veins and settling into every cell of my system with an easiness so dreadful and startling… Ron is always so calm and composed, capable of coping with every single, distressing thing, and now… he just seems so helpless, and I feel such guilt sprout inside me, for putting him in such a position… I- I need to get him out of this, he shouldn't ever be like this, especially if the cause of it is me.

During that little decisive wandering of mind, I must have composed a bit myself, as I can't feel the making of tears in my eyes, and my breathing seems a tad more even. Ron himself must have sensed these changes, because the harsh wrinkle in between his eyebrows is now less apparent and his eyes show less stress than before. Coincidentally, both exhale a huge mouthful of air at the very second, both half-opening our mouths with the intentions of speaking; the little motion makes both of us, fortunately and unexpectedly, more relaxed, as well as the atmosphere around less tense. I offer him a small smile, one that also pronounces an apology, and Ron gives a tiny one in return, silently answering to me that there is no need of an apology, just an explanation. And that's what 'm going to give him.

"It is nothing, really," I say to him with as much casualness as I can gather in my voice. "J-Just a little… disagreement with Harry, that's all."

Yes, I know that this statement is a distortion of the truth to the degree of felony, and that the casualness used in my voice is even worse, but doing that, I do not try to mock myself with the idea that this… argument with Harry meant nothing. No, I know that it will tease the pit of my stomach and corners of my mind for quite a long time, but on the other hand, I don't want to upset Ron with this. He is new here; he is still quite reluctant around school and other students- especially after almost two centuries of nothingness- and even though he doesn't want me to know this, I'm more than certain that he is a bit nervous about this renewed situation; actually, a completely new one, as he never attended a school before.

Ron looks at me quite cautiously, his big, blue eyes observing mine very carefully. He seems quite hesitant at first, opening ever so slightly his mouth just to close it again, and I give him a silent look back, in hopes of soothing his soul and his presence around me once again; I simply cannot stand seeing him like this, even if such a reaction of his is so… _human_. I guess I still haven't got used to him being a normal, human being.

"A disagreement?" he asks slowly, his voice slightly careful and concerned in its depth. "What happened… Is everything alright?" I sigh lightly, trying to shoo away the bits of ache and confusion inside my heart, protesting to my mind's demands on trying to figure out right now what is going on with Harry, saying everything to Ron right away so he could give me his opinion, maybe help me with such a matter. No, Ron cannot know about this, especially not now, when he is just so hopeful and eager to explore the world again, make new friends and share experiences… not now, when he always talks with such kind words and admiration about Harry and his dear friendship to me…

Just not now…

"Nothing much… just a bit of disagreement, you know, a little argument that's going to be forgotten by tomorrow… nothing to worry about…" I say as much casually as I can under his soft stare, and I give him a small, reassuring smile for great measure.

"But are you sure, my flower?" Ron asks softly, his hand running up and down to my arm a bit in a warming motion, his round eyes looking at me a bit worriedly and innocently, to the point of skipping a heartbeat in the heartbreakingly beautiful sight. "Y-You seemed so upset when you came…"

"It's nothing really," I immediately fill the silence of his trailing off, trying desperately to kill the hints of apprehension that still stain his now far-away-looking eyes. I stare at him, attempting to make him look me back again, and when he does, I continue. "We just said things… I just overreacted, that's all. I was quite tired already, and I didn't have much patience with him, honestly…"

Silence falls once again between us after our words. I don't think that I should add anything more to my little pile of white lies and all I care about right now is his reaction. I manage to steal a glimpse of him from behind thick eyelashes; his expression is still mildly concerned and hesitant, maybe even a bit unsure of what is going on or what should be done. But then, in almost in a flash, this expression is gone, giving its place to a tiny, sweet smile and eyes brighter than the darkened oceans of the previous minutes.

"If you say so, then I trust you, Hermione," he tells me after a second, stretching his full lips to a wider smile just to prove his gentle words. Frankly, his words, the honest meaning behind them is provoking a small sting in my heart, just because I know that this trust may be mistaken; I've just lied to him, kept a truth away from him, something I remember of never having done before… I just pray that my purpose is enough to be excused. "And for the record, if you have felt tired back then, you really should have some rest right now; the essay can wait."

Almost completely forgetting the worries of the last few minutes, I smile widely at his kindest notions. His own beam, in response, is a relief greater than imaginable, as well the warmth of his huge, slightly calloused hand covering mine, pulling it gently towards him, guiding us slowly towards the couch, his eyes, crystal blue and sparking, never abandoning mine in a bond arising too many sentiments to name. It is always so refreshing, wanted and so appreciated, especially when it has the ability to erase all the existent distress and worry. We sit on the sofa and the feeling of balmy coziness is all so apparent in an instant, not only due to the warmth provided by the dancing flames in the fireplace or the softness of the cushions, but mostly because of Ron sitting so close to me, his thigh in contact with mine, his head so close to my own, the short distance letting me feel his hot breath on the side of my neck, raising goose bumps all over my skin. I swallow hard, trying to wet my suddenly so dry mouth, and I lick my lips before taking a mouthful of air within before raising my eyes to meet his own, which are unexpectedly close, and so, so dark all of a sudden, like the skies during new moon. I shiver involuntarily as I keep staring deep into his eyes and I can feel my heart's increasingly fast beating, the way my blood, all hot and impatient, runs in my arteries and veins, trying crazily to keep up with the pace my lungs demand on oxygen, my mind demands on some sort of tangible relief… His midnight blue eyes stare into mine for eternity, then quickly shift downwards, pupils dilated, to capture in vision my lips; my breathing quickens, just as his does, his own, luscious lips now slightly parted in possible need to entrap more air within the burning body… at least that is how _I _feel right now, a captor of my own body and its vivid reactions, and by the almost mirroring reactions of Ron's I can only guess…

My next inhalation is an almost gasp and I cannot help it… I have to lean closer, captured deep within his so familiar scent, of earth and apples and I need, I need to feel his _taste_; I must gain that so precious knowledge…

Ron takes a deep breath in and then he averts his eyes from my mouth, just to look up to my eyes again. The almost tangible tension in them is now gone, like it never was there to vivify them even more; they were, once again, tranquil and dazzling, and in a moment of slight daze and overreaction, I wonder if it was all my imagination, a moment of weakness when I fantasized about how it would be for Ron to feel such passion for me, how it would be if Ron was ruled by feelings unreasonable or spontaneous and—

"I have something for you," Ron's voice interrupts my wild, dizzying thoughts, and I have to take another mouthful within before managing to react sensibly, giving him a small smile along with a curious look.

"What is it?" I ask immediately, feeling rather childishly nosy at the moment. Ron smiles wider, shakes his head almost imperceptibly before standing up and heading towards the table below a window at the far side of the room, taking something in his hands and quickly returning back to me, making me mourn only a bit for the lack of such a wondrous connection and proximity. He sits just as close as before and he slightly turns his torso towards me in an attempt to have a better view of me. I can see clearly his smile, all small and sweet and even a bit coy, his cheeks freckly and a bit rosy now, his eyes dark and alluring, half-covered by strands of ginger hair that carelessly fall into every possible place. I must be so utterly mesmerized by his facial beauty, that I do not immediately realize that his full hands are slowly heading towards me, till they almost rest on my lap, in a silent indication that I should take whatever lies within. Ron, with that amazing intuition of his, most probably understands my current, little weakness, as his smile becomes momentarily more mischievous and then he parts his lips, so he can utter a so soft: "Happy birthday, Hermione."

My eyes are glued on his for some more seconds, unable to look away from all the meanings and the sayings that lie somewhere deep within, only asking to seize them and own them; it is shivering and overwhelming, because, despite Ron's always expressive eyes, this thing is all new, the intensity and the softness intertwined so unexplainably…

"Take it," he whispers, urging me yet again to get the little thing in his huge palms. The eager smile, at long last, makes my eyes avert from his face so I can take a look downwards, at his hands, where lies a tiny little pouch in the colour of wine red, tied at its end with a small, brown rope. I eye it curiously, trying to guess without touching what can be in that small pouch, but my wonderings cease at the sound of Ron's voice; "It's really not that much, just a little thing I've been making myself all this time; I just hope… I just hope you'll like it…"

He seems all coy and unsure and, all of a sudden, his cheeks become even a tad redder right now. I smile reassuring up to him and cover the side of his one hand with my own, squeezing it in silent comfort that I will certainly _adore _it, only because it's from him and it is _made by him_. My heart skips a beat, then another, just from the simple thought of it.

"Thank you," I breathe in a warm tone, eventually taking in my hands the small present. The pouch is made of velvet, and despite my mild dislike of the particular kind of fabric, this is surprisingly soft under my fingertips, like it is a coat of feathers, rather that velvet. Unconsciously, I rub my fingertips a bit more on the material, till they reach the rougher substance of the little rope, and, unable to wait a second longer, I pull on the one end so the tie is loosened and the pouch opened. I glance up to Ron, catching his gleaming eyes and hopeful expression and then I turn the tiny bag upside down, so its content will fall on my awaiting palm; a moment later, I feel the slight weight, the range of substances and textures: leather and warm wood and… and I feel my heart sinking in balm and absolute gratefulness and admiration… this is simply _beautiful _and _heart-warming_.

In my palm, innocently resting, is a hand-made necklace, a little wonder for my eyes to see. The string is one of leather and at its centre there is a smallish piece of smooth wood of oval shape, on the surface of which is carved a so beautiful rose. After that, this little wood is surrounded almost wholly by some sort of vines with some leaves and even some tiny blossoms- but the greatness of it all is not that the wood is encircled by some sort of plant, because it is not one; the vines, the little leaves and the blossoms are all made of wood, as well, a concrete piece of the whole wooden creation, a certain wonder to make with hands, especially so perfectly and realistically… and how the smallest of colour tones overlying that parts of dark wood- lighter and darker tints of green, light pinks and almost whites, even some very hesitant reds appearing every now and then in a blossom- make, in a way, the whole creation a little marvel in my hand, to the point my breathing is slightly more uneven and my heart's beating a tad wilder, as a vast wave of warmth and gratitude and _immense love_ rushes inside me, conquering oh so easily everything that ever dared to go against so pure and invincible feelings.

I swiftly look up to his face, trying to catch his expression as fast as feasible, and only then I realize that my eyes are somewhat wet with the sprouting of emotions and sensations. I stare at Ron, capturing his loving appearance, his radiant eyes, his lips, all full and stretched into an equally bright and breathtaking beam. My heart starts skipping beats, acting all wild and rebellious, unable to be tamed during a moment so gentle, yet so stimulating like this particular one.

"So, you like it then?" Ron asks me finally, a shier tone interlacing his deep voice, his eyes watching me with a naively hopeful look that makes my pulse more alive and naughtier. I beam at him widely and respond immediately, even though I think that any kind of verbal confirmation is more or less pointless.

"Do I like it? Oh, Ron, this is a little perfection, and- and you made this yourself?"

He nods gently once before answering; "It's nothing, really; just a small thing… If I had a bit more of time, I would be able to—"

"No need to say any more," I interrupt him quite firmly, though, as he looks up to me with round, curious eyes, I give him a tiny, reassuring smile. "This is more than a great gift, Ron, and I really appreciate all the work you've done for this- for me… Thank you so much, I adore it!" I exclaim and without thinking, I fall into his arms, hugging him tight with my arms around his lower back, my face temporarily snuggled into the warmth of his chest. He hugs me back, not as tightly, but certainly with the same amount of love radiating from his body and action, as his palms, huge and with fingers widely spread, caresses my back soothingly, showing wordlessly his responsive happiness to my own. For a minute, we stay like this, silent and embraced by each other, by emotions light, by an atmosphere lulling and sweet, till, in my balmy, cozy state, a thought pops into my mind and I almost hum; "Will you put it on for me?"

Ron chuckles gently for a second before humming himself a velvety "Sure" and leaning away from my embrace so he can take the wooden jewel from my hand. He untangles slowly the leather rope and stretches it to its full length, making the jewel slide to the middle of it before shifting his body a bit closer to mine, still facing one another. His hands come closer to me until they almost encircle my neck and come to very gently rest on the back of it, carefully tying both ends to a secure, little knot. "All done, my lady," he whispers and leans slightly away, starting to take his hands away, all the while his fingertips, every now and then, unconsciously graze on my skin, making it so easily rise in response, desperately crying out for more of his touches, of anything he can possibly give. I smile widely, joyful to be able to feel the warmth of the wood on my skin, a distant part of his presence near my heart, and I'm about to thank him for his assistance, but as I lie my eyes properly on him and open my mouth, I stop. My heart jumps a bit and then suddenly slows dramatically its pace, my lungs, too, stay stiff and still. The only things that seem to work right now are my eyes, pupils surely dilating rapidly in the sight of—

I gasp inaudibly, taking in some oxygen so I won't faint, yet my eyes stay still, watching Ron as he is also frozen, too close to me, breathing the very same air I do, exhaling quickly and a bit noisily almost in my too dry mouth, his own lips slightly parted and moistened, all red and luscious, never seemed more inviting and… delicious. I need to breathe deeper, otherwise I'll become extremely dizzy, and I must not, not when he is so close, his nose almost touching my own, his eyes… his eyes so dark and attractive, pupils huge, giving their entire attention to… to my lips, never leaving their sight. My breaths, unconsciously, become more erratic, and my heart, from its previous immobility, starts to beat too harshly in my ribcage, trying to escape the pitiful bounds of the body… An almost crazy heat spreads from my chest to my entire body, tingling in my fingertips, making my hairs rise from their roots and my toes curl in wild expectancy for something grand to occur… I can feel and hear his breaths, also erratic and quite shallow, coming in and out from his mouth and I need to swallow to wet my mouth and throat, but, Merlin, I can't; all I can do is stare at him, at his almost black eyes, then at his addictive lips, back to his eyes—

"May I…" Ron suddenly breathes, killing the intense silence between us, almost making me jump; yet, he also manages, somehow, to make me feel more desperate for air, for _him_. He gulps down almost forcefully, like his own throat is all dry and closed, before he averts his eyes from my mouth, snapping them up to my own, a weird, unseen-before expression deep on them. "May I do something?"

His question makes my skin tingle all over, my heart pounding harder and faster than ever before in my young life, but these reactions, even though so vivid, mean almost nothing to me. I try miserably to spell out some words, but my mouth, even though slightly open, is all glued and in current disuse, so, while in a daze, my only response is in the form of a numb nod. He nods himself once and, ever so slowly, he starts leaning in to my face, his breaths, a tad calmer, showering warmly my face, and I cannot stand this anymore, as my sensations are maddeningly haywire, making my head almost spin out of control… I close my eyes as I feel Ron closer and closer, some parts of his tight, heated skin touching mine, making me gasp softly in reaction, but also in anticipation of what is to come…

I feel it; his lips, full and half-parted and hot on my forehead, just above my eyebrow. I sigh in contentment, in tangible relief, as some of the tight knots in my stomach are slightly releasing, yet, that bare, almost hesitant touch is barely enough. My breathing calms down just a bit, and I feel ready to speak to him, break the silence and ask him to kiss me, full on the mouth, because I don't know how much more of this constant, physical and mental torture I can endure; however, as I part my lips a bit more, his lips move, so they can kiss, ever so lightly and lovingly, my left eyelid, then the right one, then the cheekbones, the sides of my nose and the tip of it, the whole expanse of my cheeks, my jaw-line, behind my left ear and my cheek again, showering my entire face with slow pressures of his half-open lips. During this whole procedure, the tangible show of affection, my heart calms down more and more, my breaths become more even and deeper, thus quenching equally well my lung's thirst. And as I feel Ron's lips travelling carefully around my face, they ever so slowly head towards my pulsing lips, the part that desperately needs the most of his attention. While I feel his breaths, now even and still warm, on my cheek, Ron, ever so reluctantly, kisses the little bridge between my nose and upper lip; the skin tingles so much, to an almost point of numbing, and I gasp softly in the sudden urge to have more air within my body, evening out the wild, rebellious reactions of my insides. I wait patiently for his next move, but for a very long moment Ron stays simply still, breathing and with lips barely touching the already praised skin, most probably thinking, wondering about his next, possible move. I want to speak, to tell him that I need this, I need him this way, but I can barely think of the words needed to be spelled out; my mind is fuzzy, almost intoxicated by his entire presence, his lovely, earthy scent, the warmth radiating from within him...

As my desperation reaches a level higher than ever imagined, his lips move slightly, just to rest on the corner of my mouth, still and shy, not daring for a while to make another move. A few very long seconds must have passed before he eventually kisses in a small, coy kiss that little part of skin, one so amazingly, yet unbearably close to my burning mouth. The pulse is palpable there, I can feel it, as well as I can hear it in my eardrums, growing a bit faster and more urgent. The torture gets fierier and fierier, my entire body is tingling and humming in expectancy of a relief appropriate, yet still not coming. I open my eyes ever so slightly, just to take a look at Ron, but I don't expect to find him looking back at me, his eyes so wide and dark, yet so bright as well. I lose myself in this breathtaking look for a couple of seconds, till I manage to escape from my heavy daze and recognize the quality of his look; he seems so weak, vulnerable, maybe a lit bit crazed by it as well. It is worrying and I feel a little pang in my heart. I need to find out what is wrong, what makes him feel like this, so down; I need to comfort him and take away the weakness and the vulnerability and the slight uneasiness, but then, just another second more of staring into his eyes, I understand it all, every little, unreasonable sentiment being displayed in his so beautiful eyes. I say nothing; I just reassure him with my own eyes, giving him a response clearer than one's words could ever define so perfectly. His eyes widen more, and his pupils, if possible, expand as well, but it matters little any more, as I close my eyes again and I only feel; I feel his breaths even closer to my skin, his arms snaking around my waist and back slowly and tightly, bringing me inescapably closer to him body, my chest pressing into his, as his lips move insignificantly, so they can cover mine…

Suddenly, I'm in the middle of so many crucial, yet completely trivial needs, like breathing; I can feel some need to breathe, but I cannot comprehend it wholly, I'm not able to make it a priority, it's impossible. All I can possibly care about is that otherworldly connection between Ron and me, the way his lips move, carefully and lovingly, on mine, how his hands spread on my back and waist, how his arms bring me closer and closer, how, ever so smoothly, he deepens our very first kiss, making it a slow, gentle, yet quite heated and passionate act of worship, lips playing with each other with love and passionate respect, taking everything away from me, taking everything away from him, so there won't be an 'I' or a 'he' anymore- there will be an eternal, powerful 'we,' one that blends the two people into one, without crushing the importance of the two identities, just making them stronger, almost invincible in the course of a tight, wanted bond. At the complexity of such a brilliant, grand thought, I feel more alive than ever, and my need for him becomes vaster, so it is me, this time, who makes our kiss deeper, though, after a moment, he breaks away from the bond slowly, thus obligating both of our bodies to take huge breaths within, eventually giving in to matters that mean little to a growing heart.

Both of our eyes are slightly opened, through heavy eyelashes looking at parts of each other's face, eyes, mouth, pale, glowing skin, everything. I sense Ron lightly pressing his lips to my cheek and side of my nose in a million of butterfly kisses; I feel elated and free- I feel _whole _in a way never known before.

"I- I love you," he breathes almost breathlessly, his lips mouthing the words on my skin, and I gasp lightly on the feeling combined by both words and actions. My heart flutters in my chest and a so faint laugh is quite inevitable.

"I love you, too," I whisper back, blissful to feel such taste on my lips; his smile is apparent on his face, pressed on my cheek.

"I always wanted to do that," he confesses after a second, his tone much softer and sweeter, having an instant effect on my heart's beating. "…kiss you…" My laughter is louder this time, but only a bit, yet still soft and almost dreamy, and I dare to lean back a bit, so I can look properly into his dazzling eyes.

"So, why did you stop?" I tease him lightly, giving him a wholeheartedly playful, little smile; his reaction is immediate, with his own, little smirk attached on his face, his eyes brighter than usual.

"I didn't want you to faint again in my arms," he responds lightheartedly as his palms are rubbing on my ribs and sides slowly, gradually bringing me back close to his body, in his embrace, where I feel like I really belong, after all. "My mere presence and a simple embrace managed that, so imagine what can possibly happen to you with my kisses…" he wiggles his eyebrows once, his lips stretching into a wide, so handsome grin, and all I can do is laugh, bringing my arms around his neck, closing the unnecessary distance between us.

"Since when you are such a cocky boy?" I ask him, unable to escape from the current playfulness floating in the atmosphere. Ron chuckles and eventually leans down to me, his lips a breath away from mine.

"Since I realized that I would do anything to see that beautiful smile on your face- and that so far, my attempts are successful…" I smile at that, and I'm happy to see him feel like this as well.

"Just kiss me."

And he willingly obliges to my words, and makes the world fade to inexistence once again.

* * *

><p><em>-So, I really hope that this satisfied you all to some extend. As previously said, Harry's behaviour may seem weird or irrational, but it will be explained further on in the story. Know that I tried to smooth Harry out some, but the plot of the story was formed into my mind a couple of years ago, so it is quite difficult to change such aspects. Still, I try my best, and please, do not throw flames at me for this. <em>

_-After that, your reviews are always extra welcome. I'd like to know your opinion about the story. _

_-Hopefully, next chapter will be up some time next week. I'll try my best to keep uploading on a regular basis like once every week or every two weeks... we'll see... Anyways, take care! :) _


	5. Hermione's Favors

**Author's Note: **Hello everyone! Sorry for the little delay of the chapter, but anyways, here it is now! A couple of things before you read the chapter; my beta informed me that sometimes a reference to a girl's lungs from a boy can be interpreted or misinterpreted as a reference to her chest. Well, I had no idea that this kind of thing can happen (and I find it quite funny, but, oh well), so when I wrote some of Ron's lines (you'll see what I mean) I certainly didn't mean for him to refer to Hermione's chest. Just so you know. After that, I'd really like to thank the reviewers from last chapter; this **anonymous Guest**, who actually thought that I'm a professional writer. Well, I'm not (even though I wish I was), but your few words certainly made my day! And a big tanks to **Sandrinha2**, for her so detailed and insightful review, one that really depicted how I feel about each of the characters in this AU story. Actually, your 'wish' came true, because this chapter has a great deal to do with Ron's past. :)

Another big thank you to my great beta, **ObssessedRHShipper!** :)

So, Enjoy! :)

_The Blue-eyed Spirit_

~_Hermione's Favors ~_

My eyes are closed lightly and I feel serene, wrapped in the coziness of the Prefects' common room during this Friday night, after a quite exhausting day of lessons, essays, research in the library, a test, and corridor patrol until curfew. My bones are still somewhat aching, my toes were, until very recently, cramping awfully often and I also had a bit of headache; and it's still just mid-November, for Circe's sake! Being here for the very last year and also being a Head Girl can be quite tiring, to be frank, and I don't know how I'm going to properly handle that when I know that I have at least another six months of doing the same amount of work- if not more! And it's certainly going to be more, loads and loads of more to work and stress about, like the N.E.W.T.s, and the Head responsibilities, and the future—

_Oh… _

My fretting over all these things is gradually subsiding into a lulling hibernation, a comfortable coma, as I can sense feathery touches across my temple, down to my cheek and faintly to my jaw line, then up to my temple again, where familiar skin massages gently, so any existent pressure can go away, like it was never here to torture me. I hum in appreciation and snuggle a bit closer to Ron's so warm body; in response, feeling his arm around me wrapping more securely and tightly around my figure make us both more comfortable.

"Headache gone at all?" he asks me almost lazily, even though I can detect some hints of concern lacing with his tone. I sigh and nod once.

"Like it was never apparent; thank you," I respond lightly and nuzzle a bit to his chest, seeking more of his warmth, if possible. I try to hear and feel his heartbeat from under his shirt and muscle, seeking the nicest of comforts. The palm on my face spreads a bit, so the thumb can caress my cheekbone, all the while the rest of his long, pale fingers can entangle with my unruly locks of brown hair, even massage ever so slightly my scalp with their pads. I sigh again, feeling more and more like a puddle, a boneless body within his arms and under his kind ministrations.

"It's nothing," he replies after a second, his voice deep and smooth just like always. "I just felt you were a bit tense for a minute there…" His words surprise me a bit, because I didn't understand I was so obvious with my inner worries. But then again, Ron has, most of the time, an intuition regarding me, sensing almost all of my emotional states and moods, as well as managing to smooth them if they tend to sharpen to a point, which is unhealthy or worrying, taking them away from my soul. However odd it may seem from the outside, I am somewhat glad that he has such an instinct addressed solely on me, because, in a way, it shows how connected we are to each other, our souls bonded tightly together in a unity inescapable. I can be more sure about that than the next dawn occurring.

"I was thinking about the exams and things like that, that's all…" I mumble and shrug, not wanting to worry him without reason- or at least a serious one. Ron rubs his hand reassuringly on my forearm, giving me a sensation of inner strength spreading from his fingers inside my veins, quickly starting its journey within my body. After many minutes, I eventually open my eyes and lean my back backwards and a bit to the side, so I can stare up at him slightly from an angle; to my aid, Ron turns his head as well, cocking it cutely to one side, so we can face each other properly. I cannot help but smile up to him, widely and sweetly, and he returns the gesture eagerly, even though his small grin manages somehow to be lovelier and much brighter than my own, huge beam.

"Don't worry about it, my flower. You're an exceptional and determined mind and I have faith that you'll do great with your exams… no, not just great- outstanding!" With the sound of his warming, so gratifying words and his serious face that holds nothing but sincerity, I smile even more, but then, a spur of playfulness appears and feeling like following it along, I instantly shot my eyebrow up, giving him a curious look.

"_Exceptional and determined mind_, eh? So that's all I am to you, Mr. Weasley- a mind?" I ask him, faking quite badly my supposed offense and severity over the situation. I instantly see Ron's eyes shining up with happiness and an adorable, little smile tugs on his luscious lips as he slowly leans closer to my face, taking my breath away as he parts his lips with the intention of replying.

"No…" he almost whines in protest and, even though I would never have guessed, I almost swoon at such an endearing tone in his voice. "No, you're not just a mind to me…"

"…And? What else I am, according to you?" I ask further, a bit impatient as a few moments passed with him purposely not explaining further. He hides his minute chuckle before giving his answer.

"Well…" he starts slowly, his wide eyes wandering around my face, as in deep thought about what he is to say to me. "You are a very compassionate and caring heart… an independent and free spirit, yet eager to please everyone she cares about… mmm, what else…?" he wonders aloud and makes it even harder for me to suppress my giggles, because, despite its warming sensation, it is still funny, seeing him give his best performances just for me. "Ah! Can a well-functioning respiratory system count in this?"

"Ron! Enough with my body's organs!" I exclaim in my less-than-adequate act, hitting him lightly on his arm. A loud, sincere laugh explodes out of him and for a moment, I am simply lost to the so pure, exhilarating sound. After some long moments, Ron's laughter subsides and he shifts his look on me again, with his bright beam always plastered on his face.

"You're also very kind, good-mannered, responsible, great and brave and a curious witch in that good way that you can never explain fully… and you're stunning, inside and out." His words now flow like water, fast and smoothly, like there were always somewhere inside his mind, eager to spill out. The tone used is a low one, deep and almost husky as he peers into my eyes, letting them not escape away from such a crucial connection. It is breathtaking and makes my heart dance wildly in my chest, because being praised like this by such a wonderful creature is nearly awe-inspiring. Of course, the little, sweet peck that follows, just to ensure that the previous sayings are accurate and heartfelt, manages to stop the functioning of my mind for a bit. I lick my lips unconsciously, trying to find some remaining taste of Ron's lips somewhere in my lips and I open my eyes slowly, wondering silently when I closed them in the first place.

"Thank you, my dear," I whisper absentmindedly, feeling my cheeks getting hotter in sudden shyness. He smiles down to me almost invisibly, just a mere, lovable upwards twist of the corners of his lips as his eyes, more serious, yet not in a hard, stony way, gaze at mine, as the fingertips of his left hand barely caress my cheekbone and temple.

"It's the truth…," he breathes simply, in a soft tone that implies that I have to understand the facts he was mentioning before. We look at each other for a bit, simply staring for an indefinite eternity, not caring or minding, because this kind of peace is beautiful, especially when shared with such an equally beautiful creature. The atmosphere, even though quite plain in its warmth and coziness, holds a beloved essence of great intimacy, a sacred essence that should be held forever in my heart. I do not wish to break it or scare it away, but enhance it, enhance that amazing sensation of closeness between us, if that is possible. And then, suddenly, yet amazingly, happily so, an idea comes to mind that can possibly help such an important want to occur- if only Ron has absolutely no problem with it…

"I have an idea!" I immediately exclaim to Ron, making him concentrate on me on a whole new level, his eyes wider and curious and his lips a bit pursed in surprise and wonder.

"What is it?" he asks innocently, his hand on my shoulder absentmindedly stroking parts of bare skin just above my collarbone, making me feel a bit flustered in a good way, but I quickly proceed on telling him further of my little thought.

"I wonder if, you know, you can maybe tell me things…" I start, feeling a bit self-conscious about his possible reaction, because the previous time I asked him slightly indirectly about this, he politely said that he would do this at another, more proper time, when he could feel ready… what if this time hasn't appeared yet?

"What sort of things?" Despite the reassurance hidden in his voice and words, it takes me a few seconds before replying.

"A-About your past… you know, in Wales…"

Ron himself remains silent for some seconds, to the point where they seem like days without his answer and with that look of serious thought and concentration. But as I'm about to shrug off the idea as a stupid one, telling him that it's alright not to want to talk about it, maybe even apologise in case he feels uncomfortable with this kind of attention on him, he opens his mouth and speaks softly, cheerfully, eagerly.

"Sure! Ask away and I hope I won't bore you so much…"

"There is no chance of this happening!" I exclaim, laughing incredulously over the fact. How can he even think of such a prospect! "You lived during an entirely different period of time, in a wizarding community… There are so many things I want to know!"

"And here is the knowledge lover I know and love!" Ron teases me, smiling brilliantly as he probably sees my reddening cheeks and chuckles for a second before saying softer, shifting his body closer to mine so our sides can touch completely. "So… where should I start?"

"Your family! Tell me all about your family!"

"Well, you know some basics about my family," he starts nonchalantly, bringing me even closer to him with his arm around my shoulders, resting his cheek comfortably to my temple so I can barely feel the moves of his lips and cheek as he speaks. "A ridiculously large family; seven children, all boys except for the youngest, my only sister, Ginny. My parents, my grandparents from my father's side, as well as grandmamma from my mother's side… Of course, our family was much, much bigger than that, but at the Burrow, it was only us… well, if you can refer to twelve people as '_only us_'…" He laughs softly and I laugh along for a bit, until my curiosity strikes again.

"What's the Burrow?"

"Oh, our home back in Wales; Grandpa Weasley named it that when he built it, and honestly, it's true to its name, in a way… You know, _weasels _leave in _burrows_, so, in a way, it brings a very nice, warm essence of closeness and familiarity, and makes the bond between our home and us even stronger. It was a paradox of a house in some ways, with too many floors and asymmetrical due to the constant additions of new rooms, but in the end I don't think I would have it any other way. I was born in this house and I was brought up there; each little corner and piece of furniture has a story to tell, a memory owned…it was a true home, to all of us."

I am speechless, almost breathless with the way he speaks, so beautifully and earnestly, almost passionately about his home, a thing that for some is plain walls and a roof, but to him… He put into words a whole philosophy about the significance of such a place without pompousness though, but with a so sincere and wholehearted, deep emotion that stirs from within, from the feelings arisen by the recollection of sweet, fond memories of the past. For a moment, we both remain silent, I because I am still pondering on the grandness of his words, and Ron probably due to wandering in his past, someplace in Wales, thinking of his large family and the home he came to adore deeply.

"So…" I eventually ask him after another couple of minutes in complete and comfortable silence, "Tell me more about your family members. So many people living under the same roof; it must have been something else!"

"Indeed!" Ron laughs merrily, his eyes shining handsomely, yet in a naïve, youthful way as well. "So many, different people… sometimes we reacted and behaved so differently, that other people wondered if we really were family! Of course, that notion was plainly stupid, considering we were all freckly redheads who looked too much alike, but it was fun anyway. It would be kind of boring with twelve people being identical in character with each other…

"Anyways, where should I start from? Well, firstly, there are the Weasley grandparents; Grandpa Septimus was a very warm, joyous man and loved us all dearly. He played with us without complaining, despite his back problems. He also tended to spend time with each of us individually; quite a miracle, if you ask me, but he did it, and I'm glad he did. He spoke to each of us, and he talked with us about everything, trying to bring the good out of each and every one of us. He told us stories about his travels when he was younger, and how he coped when his own family was too poor and he was struggling with everything, but in the end, how he always managed to have everything for his family, if only there was hope and hard work and love. He was brilliant and I loved him greatly…he taught me how to play chess, along with dad, and he taught me how to play the bagpipes."

"You can play the bagpipes?" I ask him incredulously, simply unable to believe the mere fact, even though he seemed really sincere when he was saying it.

Ron looks at me and exhales a faint laugh before replying,

"Em, yeah, sure. Well, I'm not as good as grandpa was and 'til I was good enough, my family struggled and gritted their teeth a lot. In the end, I could play enough so I could entertain them a bit… And it was nice to spend time with grandpa Septimus as well.

"Then, there's Grandma Cedrella, dad's mother. She was a very sweet woman; she would spoil us all a bit, like giving us a biscuit before dinner or when mum punished us… and if she was in an especially good mood, she would do some of our chores magically, so we could have more spare time and play. She was amazing, really, but, poor grandma, she got ill quite often. She had a weak body and Grandpa Septimus was worried so much about her- he really loved her, and she, too. She was disowned by her family, because she associated with such a poor blood traitor…

"After that, there's Grandmamma Lucinda, mum's mother. She and mum looked too much alike, and behaved in many ways the same. She was a bit strict, but she was only so because she wanted all of us to be raised right, not to be spoilt and arrogant, for the boys to be right gentlemen, and Ginny, a proper witch and lady, so she could find a good wizard to marry afterwards. She spent a lot of time with Ginny for that reason, teaching her how to knit, sew, and do the housework, because mum had a lot of other things to think about and do than to show her properly. Of course, she also spent time with the rest of us, telling us stories about how kind and brave Grandpa William was and helping us a lot with our homework. I know she really loved us all, even though she wasn't as affectionate as grandpa or grandma, but she really cared about us, only showed it in a different way.

"Mum and Dad were the greatest people on Earth; they were a lot like their own parents, dad so gentle and eager to please, affectionate and difficult to anger and really tried to spoil us at times, when mum wasn't around." At this, Ron laughs gently for a moment, his eyes a bit unfocused, most probably having a particular incident in mind that brings joy to his heart. "Mum was a bit stricter, but only to be able to tame the havoc in the house, considering that dad was more of an eighth child than a husband… but I guess by that secret, little smile of hers at times that she wouldn't have it any other way. She was born to be a mother and a wife, an exceptionally good one at that, warm and affectionate when she didn't fret over the chickens' feeding or the gnomes in the garden or our dirty clothes or cooking enough food so no one got malnourished. She would complain at some point, when we would be so very naughty or improper or when we didn't do our homework in time, but she never believed it. She really loved her family like nothing else in the world. She would tell us from time to time how proud she was of what she had and how she wouldn't change it for the entire world.

"And now, it time for us, the children… But, hey, haven't I bored y—"

"Don't even think about it, Mister!" I exclaim instantly, not even letting him complete his quite ridiculous question. "How could you possibly think that? This- _your _family seems amazing, and completely different from my own, minuscule one! That home must have been full of noise and life and love; chaotic, maybe, but one you come to adore, really! So, please, Ron, keep going."

Ron smiles adoringly down at me, his fingers gently pinching my cheek. "Alright there, my beauty, if you're so sure about it…"

"I definitely am…" I mumble persistently, snuggling more comfortably in the softness of his embrace and chest. He chuckles and shifts a bit too, making himself cozier as he takes a deep breath.

"So, the next generation of the Weasley clan… Let's see… First, Bill's born, about ten years older than me. He's a very agreeable fellow; everyone liked him in the village and just everywhere he would go… very smart, kind, yet quite funny as well. I think people now have a word that may suit him… err, _chill_?"

Ron looks at me quizzically, his thin eyebrows a bit furrowed. I try to understand what he wants to say for a bit, my own brows knitted in thought and then, it pops to mind.

"You mean _cool_?"

"Oh, I think this may be right…" he says after a second and then continues. "He was a true gentleman, yes, very proper and responsible, but there was something to him that instantly draws the attention, making him agreeable. He was like a second, younger father to us, especially to me and Ginny, who were the youngest in the family. He would give us advice about anything, support us, and did just everything. Of course, when I was about ten or eleven, he got married and left to make his own home and family, but he still was not so far away from us. He would still visit very often and I had my first niece at the age of twelve, and that was pretty awesome!

"Charlie was two years younger than Bill- way too adventurous. He couldn't really stand the mere thought that he may be obliged to stay in one place and have to work in some little farm or at the fields, so he decided on studying what really fascinated him- magical creatures. He was great at it; it was in his nature. At first he worked in some place in Wales, breeding Thestrals, but then he went abroad, working in places almost all over the Europe, this time breeding his true passion- _dragons_. Mum was a little stressed over this, but eventually accepted it, because she wanted to see us happy with our own lives and able to make our own decisions.

"Then, there's Percy, work-obsessed, proper Percy. He was really keen on working, wanted to do great stuff with his life, find a job at the Ministry of Magic, this kind of stuff. Back then, it wasn't as easy to take any position at the Ministry, even on the staff of the Magical Maintenance department- especially if you lived so far away from the capital city, in a small, little village like our own. But Percy was determined to do so, and he studied really hard all the time to achieve it. He was passionate with his studies and ambitions, and then, when he eventually did it, he was equally passionate, if not more, with his work at the Ministry. He became the pride of the family, justifiably so, and of the entire village, as well! He could be a bit pompous at that sometimes, but we didn't really care about that; we would tease him a bit, but we were all happy to see him achieving his dreams and succeeding.

"After two years, the twins of the family, Fred and George, came; they were mischievous, really funny ones. They'd do pranks all the time and make jokes… I think no one could spend time with them without eventually laughing or feeling even a bit happy - they had that effect on people. They were a lot like mum's twin brothers at that, always up to something. Eventually, they started making their own little tricks and practical joke objects and stuff, so they could sell them. They did really well, and they had enough money to open a small, yet very successful store of their own.

Then, there's me, but I guess you know a few things about me, so I'll pass to—"

"No!" I interrupt him yet again, quickly whipping my head towards his direction, looking in his eyes with a most probably crazed expression. "I want to know things about you back then! What were you like? What did you do? What were your interests and ambitions?" I ask him question after question, simply anything I can think of, not minding much about the gradual way my midriff and chest hollow more and more inwards, a sign that I should think a little bit about my breathing, as well, but I don't. I guess I should thank God that Ron is observant and cares about this kind of vital things.

"Hermione, please, love, just take a breath!" he ushers me in an instant, cutting me off. I oblige to his plea; only when I take that lungful of air in do I realize just how much I need it. I decide to take a few more inhalations before eventually turning my attention solely back to Ron, calm and thankful, giving him a tiny smile of gratitude as he looks back at me with his slightly concerned eyes and knitted eyebrows.

"Thank you," I breathe to him gently. "Now, please continue." He shakes his head a bit and smiles a ghost of a smile to himself before parting his lips again.

"Ok, then. There's me, two years later, Ronald Bilius. I guess I was one of the quietest and shiest, but not all the time; I could be a right, tiny devil if I wanted to be, but that was mainly when Fred and George targeted their mischievous attention on me. I had a little frog as a pet, and there was also this really playful dog that would come from time to time and play mostly with me. I grew up with not very big ambitions; what I really wanted was to make a family of my own, you know? Find a nice, amiable wife to love and for her to love me back… I always admired the way mum and dad communicated with each other, behaved with each other and I wanted that for myself. As for an occupation… well, when I was really young, before I started learning magic, I dreamed sometimes of becoming an Auror, or, later, a Quidditch player. But later on, I guessed that neither really was compatible with my bigger want to be a good husband and father. I wanted to be there for my family constantly, and being an Auror or a Quidditch player would prevent that hugely. So, I happily decided to work in the fields, along with dad, and it was more than satisfying. Then, I also worked part-time at various shops at the village, even at my brothers'. I would teach, from time to time, to children a bit of Herbology, basics in Defense against the Dark Arts or even about Magical Creatures or flying- it was great, so… fulfilling, being with children, spending time with them like this… I started this when I was about eighteen and the connection with the children was amazing to me; I want to hope for them, as well… I don't want to think that my attempts were so fruitless or awful, but I guess that the parents' want for me going back again was an encouraging gesture. Every now and then, I would also go and take watch at the village's limits during the night along with others, just for precaution. And… I cannot think of anything else right now…"

Ron looks down at me as I stare back at him with wide eyes and a slightly open mouth, unable to utter a single word due to my rightful astonishment. Of course, I always knew that Ron is something else entirely, an extraordinary presence, a wonderful person, so gentle and helpful and caring, but all the things he's just told me, the facts about his previous life he has just shared with me… All these amazing, astonishing things show even more brilliantly how much of an awe-inspiring person he is. I was blown over with all that he did…helping everyone whatever way he could; having all these occupations not due to his own benefit, but with only selfless intentions in mind…; working almost all day long, helping young children with their studies and losing his nightly rest so he can ensure his hometown's safety…

"Are you alright there, my love?" I suddenly hear Ron's deep voice, his hand shaking gently my shoulder as to seek my attention more successfully. I snap out of my reverie and wild thoughts and instantly shift my eyes up to him, staring at him with everything I have, trying desperately to show him how much his words have affected me, and how much more I love him simply due to a dusted past of his, an almost forgotten, fairy-tale-like reality. He keeps looking a bit stressed over my silent demeanor and lack of response, so I part my lips in order to shoo away the wrinkles of worry from his face.

"I'm more than alright, Ron," I say to him soothingly, bringing my hand to cup his cheek, my fingertips slightly caressing the soft, freckly skin. "I'm just… amazed by your utter altruism; it's- it's almost breathtaking…"

Then, I witness a sight that certainly I haven't seen before: Ron, at the sound of my words, lowers his eyes modestly and his cheeks instantly gain a redder hue, along with his ears. He seems so adorable like that, so unexpectedly shy because of my sincere praise, his one hand playing absentmindedly with the hem of his jumper and his mouth mumbling incomprehensible words of probable thanks and maybe even nonchalance. I have to laugh at that and, in the spur of the moment, I peck the corner of his lips, causing him, surprisingly so, to blush even more. I chuckle at this once more.

"Not my fault I'm a blushing Weasley…" Ron murmurs in protest and sighs dramatically, making my giggles a bit harder.

"So, there's Ginny left… Tell me about her!"

"Of course, Ginerva…" Ron declares and remains silent for a bit, a small, sweet smile tugging on his lips. "Little Gin, she was the only girl in the family, the first Weasley girl after many generations. Everyone held a soft spot for her; everyone adored her, even though she grew up to become at times tougher than all of her brothers! She was really quick-witted and when Grandmamma Lucinda took care of teaching her lady-like manners and qualities, she became a very amazing, pleasant girl, one that easily could capture a wizard's heart. Gin and I spent a lot of time together, because we were really close in age and because we were the youngest of all; we would tell our secrets to each other, and we would share our fears and our dreams for the future… She loved Quidditch a lot; she wanted to play professionally, but she didn't want to sadden our parents by choosing such a hard path away from all of us, one that really didn't suit a young lady. She started teaching children various subjects, such as Transfiguration and Charms or even Potions at times, and she was wonderful at that, so patient with children and understanding… At times, I would allow her to come with me to guard the village's limits, but I guess that, despite her big willingness to ensure the villagers' safety, she would also come to spend time with Andrew…" With his last few words, Ron begins to laugh quite hard in the reminiscing of something quite hilarious to him.

"What—who's Andrew?"

"One of my fellow villagers and a quite close friend of mine… Ginny would worship the earth he stood upon; she really adored him, and not unreasonably at that- Andrew was a very decent and good wizard and man. At first, I was a bit hesitant with this discovery, and did not know how to react. I didn't want Ginny hurt in any way, and even though I knew that Andrew would not, in any way, dishonor her or spoil her name and reputation, I was afraid in case she showed more clearly her feelings towards him, and he didn't reciprocate them. Eventually, I realized that my fears were outlandish, because Andrew had fond feelings for my sister and his intentions for her were nothing but honourable. So, when the time was proper, I had a talk with Ginny, then with him and the next day, he came to the Burrow, asking for a private conversation with Gin, then with dad… such a joyous day, that one was…"

I felt my eyes stinging a bit with the producing of some happy tears. "So, you also contributed to your sister and dear friend's united happiness… I don't get why you weren't sanctified then." We both laugh gently at that.

"I'm certainly not a saint, my dear, certainly not," Ron says seriously. "I did my fair share of sins on the surface of this Earth, believe it or not."

This gets me curious, but in a gentle way, if that makes sense at all. "Such as?"

"I took some lives away, Hermione - I killed creatures," Ron admits in a deadly cold whisper that drips poison of self-loathing and deep shame for the self. I feel my heart being squeezed for a second, but I shrug the reaction away in my attempt to keep this conversation going.

"You mean the battle back then, right?" I breathe my question, a bit hesitantly as I don't know what his reaction will be. Truth is, I've never heard him speak in such a tone before, even though it doesn't seem that harming, still is very surprising and momentarily makes my spine shudder, sending a slight tremor to the rest of my body. Ron immediately senses that bodily reaction and that probably shakes him out of any troubling thoughts of the past.

"I think it would be better if we stop having this conversation," Ron rushes, shifting his body so he can face me properly, his body now a bit more distanced from mine, not touching at all except for a hesitant hand that barely touches my forearm. I shake my head vividly, trying to shoo away this expression from his face showing deep concern and guilt for speaking on such matters. I need to take these concerns away from his soul and mind.

"No, Ron, please!" I beg him slightly, trying almost desperately to make him look back at me, as he now averts his eyes almost shamefully. "I won't think of you any less because of doings during a battle! Whatever you did I'm sure it was done only with the intention to protect those you really care about, and nothing else. You surely did what every sane, brave person would do to make sure that everything he loves and keeps dear to heart is safe. You did what your loyalty told you to do; you have a good heart and selfless spirit. You shouldn't consider yourself a bad person for one minute because you did a heroic thing, because you stood up for what was right. And you also shouldn't consider me as disgusted or frightened by you; I just want to know what happened back then, but only if you feel well enough to speak about it. I won't ever force you into something like this, if it is painful or difficult for you."

"No, it is not that," Ron whispers after a moment, still his eyes a tad reluctant about meeting my own as he lets out the words, a bit strained and cautious. "I just… I just don't want for you to hear such awful things, I do not want to upset your heart and mind with such cruel happenings of so long ago… It was not pretty, Hermione, and you're so pure… I just would not like to blemish that pureness…" I have to shake my head again at that and quickly grasp his hand in mine, squeezing it a bit in hopes of making my point clearer to him.

"Ron… I'm not fragile or naïve… I know that bad things happened and still can happen in the world. I'm not the epitome of pureness, as you may think… I know some things about the horror apparent in the world, so do not fear that your recollections about that battle will shatter my soul to a point unbearable or unfixable. I don't say that I'll jump up and down as I hear about your memories of a blood-shed fight, and I cannot say that I'll be totally unaffected by it. You _died _during that battle, Ron, so it's bound to be even a bit saddening to me, but I know that I can handle it, because you are here with me and because it is about _you_. I really wish to know as much as possible about you and your life before."

Ron's eyes fast shift from staring indifferently at the carpet, to meet mine, all wide and slightly surprised. He looks at me silently for a long time, his lips slightly open and his front teeth grazing the bottom one unconsciously, as he stares and thinks deeply. I respect his silence, his mute wish to think for a moment, so I do not speak further, I do not pressure him, but I only stare back, giving him any sort of answers he may want or look for in there, in my eyes and behind them, in my heart. After some indefinite time, he slowly takes his hand away from mine, for a second making my heart halt its beating, only to bring me relief when he rests it under my jaw line, his fingers rubbing softly the side of my neck 'til they hide between my curls. His eyes remain a tad serious, yet a hint of a smile appears on his full lips.

"Alright," he only says and takes a deep breath before pushing me gently towards his warmth, embracing me softly and putting now both of his hands in my hair, rubbing the scalp soothingly. "But promise me, _promise me, Hermione,_ that when you feel that you cannot tolerate this anymore, when you feel even the smallest of doubts and do not want to hear any more of these things, you will tell me to stop, because I cannot possibly bear the mere thought of you having to deal with ache and upsetting thoughts and feelings that should not be apparent, especially if I was one sole reason of their existence. Do you understand this, Hermione?" he asks me with a serious tone in his deep voice, while he gently pushes my head slightly back, so we can look properly to each other, and so his eyes can make clear the gravity of his words.

"I swear I will, Ron. If it becomes agonizing for me, I'll ask you to stop." He nods slowly and then takes another deep breath before leaning back into the sofa and parting his lips, starting to what I know will be a very important, maybe even life-changing experience for both of us.

"It was a day after my birthday, late evening. That night I wasn't to take watch, so I was at the Burrow with the rest of the family. Even the married siblings of mine- Bill, Percy and Ginny- were there, along with their spouses and children, and we were having a very pleasant time together, telling our news and playing with the children before their bedtime… Everything was cozy and all right, 'til…'til a Patronus was sent, telling us there was an emergency; there was an attack from goblins. We were shocked, all of us, and afraid, but we wasted no time; we went to the southern limits of the village, where the invasion had started, to see what we could do and to organize some kind of defense… All of us left, except for Grandma Cedrella, who was ill and too weak to fight along with the children. We put some extra protective enchantments around the house so we could be more at ease with leaving them behind. Thank God that Grandma Cedrella was also very good with her wand, and despite her illness, she was eager enough to make sure that, Merlin forbid, something bad happened to them, she could do her part and ensure the children's and her own safety.

"We straight away went to the place we were told, but the goblins had already made their way towards the central square and the market. We immediately headed towards there, along the way thinking of plans of better defense and tactics. But upon reaching the square, it was difficult to think about plans- God, it was difficult to think logically at that moment… Seeing- seeing your hometown like this, being ruined by some barbaric creatures… The goblins had brought along a small clan of wizards; they had made a deal to help them, as they had wands, thus they could do things much worse quicker and more effectively and in return, they would give them a quite good portion of all the things they could gain with the invasion. At the time we had reached the village, already some of the shops were set on fire or ruined and the goblins were in some sort of chaotic, crazed bliss. I- I was driven insane upon watching this… the mayhem unfold, my childhood hometown getting ruined by some… some gold-thirsty subjects and I got irrational, in a way… I was aware of my surroundings or the dangers apparent, but all I wanted was to make sure that everyone was all right, my family and fellow villagers were safe and sound, and our village would be safe in the end.

"We all got into the fight, and we battled hard and long. The wizards, who were our biggest concern at first, seemed to be quite inadequate and not ready enough; they just wanted to gain the gold and leave, so they weren't that prepared or in the right mind to think of a concrete plan. Many were captured easily by us, and the others just took whatever they could from the destroyed shops and ran away. But what we eventually understood was that the goblins were much more persistent in getting our land, and wouldn't give up easily. They didn't know anything about wands and our magic, but they knew all about swords and archery, even lethal hand-fighting tactics.

I had both a wand and a sword to fight with. Of course, I fought mostly with my wand; it was quicker and more effective, less exhausting to the body as well… I- I tried my best; I kept up well, until… until I saw it… T-Two goblins taking away Percy's wand and beating him unstoppably… I… I had to stop them, and I hunted them and threw spells at them, but they were wearing those goblin-made necklaces that made them unapproachable to our jinxes and curses, so I had to fight them with my sword… They- they b-bled to death…"

I slowly turn my head towards his profile, looking sideways because I fear that any sudden moves may upset him during such a stressful state. He seems to be shaking a bit, his eyes almost out of their sockets, frozen to remember unconsciously a sight too painful for such a gentle heart. His eyes are hazy and a bit glassy, and I feel more and more pangs torturing my heart at the plain sight of him like this, so vulnerable and sad, as well as the sound of his voice, strained and full of ache and guilt… I want to stop him, so he won't have to suffer this anymore, so he won't have to relive such painful memories, but something deep within me says not to, persuades me that the outcome will be worthy of the temporary ache… At first I cannot believe the particular thought, it seems outrageous, nearly hideous and sick, but then, as I observe Ron's eyes carefully, as I see some kind of determination in the black depths of his pupils, my heart comes to a sudden rest, and I keep my mouth shut, letting the present unfold without my interference.

"I- I was shocked beyond belief… I couldn't believe that I did this thing, that I killed those goblins, but… but I had to, _I had to_! They- they almost killed Percy and when I saw him all right and a-alive… I felt that it… it had to be done, otherwise Percy… Well, at that moment all I could feel was relief that my brother was safe and _alive_, but nothing had ended yet, so we kept fighting almost all night long. I had some minor injuries, some slashes from swords and some bruises and cuts from falls or rocks being thrown at me- the goblins got desperate after a while…

A couple of hours before dawn, thankfully we had dispatched almost all of the goblins successfully; many of them were captured and killed as well. The most fortunate part was the fact that there were no losses from our part, except from material losses, but that was gratefully fixable. From my family, despite Percy, everyone else had minor injuries, just like me and even less. The elder ones decided to go back to the Burrow, so they could see if everything was ok, and along with them went Percy and his wife, Audrey, so they could tend to his wounds. The rest, which was most of us, remained behind, though, to help with the wreckages and help other people whichever way feasible. For an hour, everything was all right, 'til we suddenly heard havoc, some couple of metres away… We ran there to see what was happening… A goblin managed to escape and take hold of a bow… At first all he did was threaten, because he was outnumbered by armed wizards. He was a bit insane and he was asking to set free the rest of the captured goblins. They ignored his threats and managed to catch him, but, on their try to tie him again, he slipped away, got free for a second time and took the bow again, along with three- four arrows. Everyone was in a deep shock; no one knew what to do, how to react- everything was happening so fast… And, the goblin- he, he wanted to ma-make a statement, so he threw the arrows at the very first p-person he set his e-eyes upon… _G-Ginny…"_

"My heart froze at that, the simple thought of something happening to her… sweet, innocent Ginny… I- I reacted immediately, without a second thought, without wasting a heartbeat… I ran to her and took those arrows, all of them, in my chest."

My heart freezes as well, as I am living through his description of the scene he had a couple of centuries ago. I feel my body getting colder as I picture the terrifying image of him being shot with arrows, arrows that dig deep into his chest to an excruciating, lethal point. I start to feel a bit dizzy but I overlook the mere fact, as well as my blurred vision, just so I can observe him, how he reacts to a re-living of his own, selfless and sacrificing act that led him to his own demise.

Ron remains still on the couch, looking straight ahead without realizing. His breaths are somewhat shallow and his eyes are still almost scarily wide, and wet, to the point some tears manage to escape from the outer corners of his eyes, maybe without his complete knowledge. He is silent for a bit, most probably focusing on the ancient, almost forgotten sensations and feelings, as well as on his breathing, in some frail attempts to tame it. I remain silent in return, only gazing at him gently. Despite him not acknowledging it, I know that somewhere deep down, he senses it and is not ungrateful for that. After a minute or two, he gulps down a mouthful of air and closes briefly his eyes before continuing with an almost hushed voice.

"It… It was so very painful, as far as my body can recollect it. A hellish heat spreading all over my chest, all over my body… I was getting dizzy and my rational, concrete thought was slowly slipping away from me, but before losing it all, I cast a stunning spell, as best as I could, on the goblin. I gather that the rest got him in time, because the spell almost took away every bit of strength I had within; the ache was rapidly lessening, as well as the dizziness and my consciousness. Everything was foggy and slightly unrecognizable at the moment; I couldn't understand much… I was able to distinguish my family's voices, all blended and desperate, and I tried to reassure them that I was all right, that everything was going to be all right. E-Everything was getting heavier and darker and I kept murmuring my thoughts, wishing that everyone was well, telling them that I love them and asking them not to mourn for me… but I'm not really certain if I ever said all these words, if they ever heard them… if I was even alive when my mind was flooded with them. Then, I just… fell asleep."

With these last words, Ron turns his head gracefully, so he can face me. For some reason unexplainable, the sight of his face, so melancholic, yet radiant, takes my breath away and obliges my eyes to be eternal slaves of this vision, never to make such a sin as averting them away. We stare at each other quietly, and despite the graveness and the sadness his last few memories arise, his eyes seem calm and undisturbed, maybe even relieved out of a burden that wasn't visible or even felt 'til that very moment. I gasp mutely as I feel his body, little by little, shift towards mine, and without much restraint, some of the blurriness in my vision disappears, as droplets of salty water are grazing my temples and cheeks in a slow trek towards my jaw. My external body may show trouble or sadness, but now, in a moment of almost apocalyptic change, I do not feel such emotion within my body. No, as I stare into his wet, blue eyes, as I feel his warmth embracing mine after a period of chill, as I feel his slightly trembling fingers reaching my face and tenderly wiping away my tears, I cannot feel sorrow or distress.

Ron is carefully wiping away all evidence of my tears, and I do the same to him in a slow, kind manner. Both of our motions are unhurried and tender, 'til they cease, so our eyes immediately seek each other's in a comforting, silent shift. Eventually, Ron leans closer to me, looking deep into my eyes before resting his forehead onto mine, making our eyelids flutter close, our hearts reaching a lulling, calm state of another kind. It is quite bizarre, how I always felt wonder for the tranquility we could both feel in the presence of each other, but now…now that previous peace seems somewhat frail in comparison with this occurring right now between us. This one seems overwhelming, effortlessly reaching even the most remote cell of my being, warming every bone and easing every muscle of my body. My heart feels quiet and my mind is at rest, as I know that the bond between Ron and me strengthens during that moment of still, reaches an understanding for each other that might have seemed incomprehensible or unknown before now.

And it is consoling and heartwarming, and I want to feel it for the rest of eternity with _him_.

"Thank you," Ron breathes ever so gently after an indefinite amount of time, almost mouthing the words on the corner of my mouth. I smile almost imperceptibly at him, with eyes still closed, and I know that there's no need to say anything in return. I just embrace his gratefulness without questioning it, because I understand why he's thanking me so deeply and sincerely, even though he shouldn't, not really… He smiles in return from what I can feel, and adoringly pecks that slightly upwards-turned corner of my mouth. Unhurriedly, I open my eyes, just to witness him open his own with identical lack of rush. He fondly gazes at my face, making my heart flutter crazily in my chest, and I cannot help but wonder - wonder wildly, how can he possibly smile all the time, how can this serene, angelic beam never leave his lips, his entire face. Yes, it is the most wonderful sight, the most perfect to my eyes, and I'm not complaining, still I cannot help the wondering…

"I'm just so, _so_ delighted…" Ron whispers suddenly, letting the words be blended with a flowing, gentle chuckle. My eyes double their size easily as I stare up to him with pure astonishment. He- He just answered, aloud, to my mind's inner wonderings, easily and kindly, like this was nothing out of the ordinary.

"I'm able to know what you're thinking and what you're feeling from time to time," Ron answers, yet again, to my mind's queries without trouble. "Don't forget, we communicated with each other for years before I re-acquired my old body; I practically _lived _within you in a way, Hermione… I think it is understandable to be fairly accustomed to your feelings and thoughts, the way this brilliant mind of yours works, don't you think, my beauty?" For my response, all he can receive are the bright, wide smile and a vivid, eager nod. For that he laughs wholeheartedly before almost burying himself in the corner of the sofa and simultaneously pulling me by our entwined hands, quickly settling me tightly by his side. I rest my head comfortingly on his shoulder as Ron takes my hand again with more gentleness and care in his own ones, gradually rubbing my little fingers and brushing with his thumb my knuckles ever so softly, causing little shivers to tease my entire body. We remain n peaceful, comfortable silence once again, with our deep breathing and quite playful hands interacting beautifully, almost breathtakingly. I cannot wholly understand the enormity of such a simple action, how it can so naturally bring the arising of so many, exhilarating feelings and sensations, how it can stand out from between so many things that happen in the world and seemingly flash grander… My chest is getting warmer and warmer, simply due to the bond between us, but, yet again, that restless mind of mine starts its way into deep thinking all because of these warm, overwhelming sensations and awe-inspiring sentiments. As the minutes pass and fade into young past, as Ron is still showering me with his love and mute attention, I cannot help, but start wondering again if…

And… could Ron possibly want this, too? What if he's repulsed by the mere idea of_ me_? But no, this can't happen, Ron loves me and he cares about me; he wouldn't possibly be repulsed by the idea… surely not. And, even if he is, he certainly will not show it, not in a harsh, unkind way to me. No, if he doesn't want to, he'll gently, reasonably tell me, so he won't hurt me in any way… But, still, the notion is ever so sudden, yet quite naturally born into my mind, and now that it is here, whole and concrete, I know that I want to be like this with him, _completely and inescapably one._

"Something wrong, my flower?" Ron mumbles softly, squeezing my fingers with encouragement. I am shaken out of my thoughts by his words and I turn my head slightly to look at him, wondering for a second how he can possibly define my little, slightly bizarre stress. _Oh, for Godric's sake, Hermione, we've discussed this before- just minutes ago!_ I want to giggle slightly at my stupidity but I swallow it down, before taking a huge breath and giving mental strength to myself. Not better time than the present, I guess…

"No, nothing's wrong," I assure him before taking another gulp of air and attempting to let the words escape my mouth as smoothly as possible. "I just- I'd like to ask you for a - a little favour…"

Ron hums his approval and shifts his eyes to look properly at my eyes, giving me his undivided attention. "Is that so?" I nod, for lack of a better response for the time being. "Hermione dear, you know that I would do anything to please you, even if you requested me leaving you."

"What?!" I exclaim suddenly, totally shaken from the shock brought with his words. "How- How could you consider _that_ as a possibility? I would never- and I mean _never_- ask you for such a thing, mister! So get it out of your thick head right this instant!" I immediately see his eyebrows raised in laughter, his crystal blue eyes shining brilliantly in joy and his white pearls as I hear his gentle, flowing laughter filling the air around us in the most graceful way possible. I have to admit that if not for my still slightly apparent surprise over his previous words, I would be totally swooned right this second.

"Well, it's a fact," he still laughs good-naturedly for a moment before inhaling lightly and continuing with a smile on his face. "So, what do you want me to do for you?"

I start feeling quite awkward and shy again, but I should do this- nothing to fear about, Hermione.

"Well… I've been thinking some lately about… well, no, I just… I was thinking and I… I came to the conclusion..." Oh, dear, I sound so pathetic right now, and Ron is staring at me with those huge eyes of his, full of this kind of gentle curiosity that I've only seen in his eyes. He's not even blinking right now; he just stares at me, waiting for me to continue… Oh, dear God! My palms are all clammy and even shaking some, and my heart skips beats from this weird blend of expectancy and anxiety… Oh, Hermione, just tell him! "I… I w-want us to make love…"

The last part comes out so faintly that I'm afraid he didn't hear me at all. My cheeks, neck and chest are burning an awful lot with embarrassment, and for a moment, I cannot bring myself to look up at his face. However, Ron does not seem to react differently from before; I can still feel his hands on top of mine on his lap, his thumb is still stroking my vaguely trembling knuckles. Frankly, I do not know how to feel about the little fact, relieved that he didn't react badly from my words, or anxious about the possibility that he didn't hear me, thus I have to spell out the words again.

"I said I would do anything for you, Hermione. If that is what you want, then so be it."

I'm rather taken aback from his response, because, honestly, I didn't except such. "Really?" is the only think I can get out of my mouth.

"Of course." His simple response should have a great, amazing effect on my body, but for some reason I don't feel completely elated- something probes my self-consciousness.

"I don't want you to agree to this because you feel obliged, Ron," I breathe out almost defeated, having to spell out my concerns. Ron immediately squeezes my hand harder and cocks his head to the side, so he can capture my attention through an eye connection between us.

"Hey, hey, don't think that way!" he says ever so softly and eventually his fingers gently raise my chin so we can look properly at each other. "Don't think about this at all, my love- just shoo that ludicrous idea out of your little head, alright?" Seeing my faint nod, he resumes. "But, my lovely, I want to ask you this seriously - are you sure that you are ready for such a thing? This is completely new and different for us."

This time, I can feel the smile widen on my face, as the slight dread and trouble disappears from my mind altogether. "I am sure about this more than anything else; I just want to be with you with any way possible."

His sweet smile makes my heart melt into my chest. "Then I will be really content to partake into such a beautiful act, my flower. But I want to be entirely sure that you did not force yourself into this thought, so you could believe that this would make me happy and satisfy me… I am as experienced to this aspect as you are and I do not feel the need inside of me to rush into things that you are not ready to handle right now, or ever. I do not want to hurt you, Hermione, or make you sad- I just want you to feel alright with me…"

His words, once again, have this mysterious power to make everything fade around us, and make the world lovelier and warmer and consistent only from the pair of us. My heart is more alive and blissful than ever, pumping into my ribcage with love and amazement, because when you're too young, you wonder if all this can ever be true, or realistic You wonder if love will ever happen to you and someone will cherish you for life, and now… now the answer is here, bright and grand, taking my breath away yet again.

"I feel more than alright- I am _whole_ with you."

Ron laughs gently again, and his eyes laughing with him so handsomely, that I get myself easily lost in the awesome combination of sight and sound. I sense him lean down to me, closing the distance between our faces with slowness both beautiful and torturing. I lose myself in the brilliance of his blue eyes, the eyes that made me fall in love with him all those years back then, in that ethereal dream during fourth year…

"I love you, too," he breathes on my lips, replying to words that barely managed to form wholly into my head at the moment. I smile lazily, almost hypnotized by his entire presence, and lean a bit closer myself, parting slowly my lips as I let my eyes burn into his own, suddenly intense stare.

"I love you," I whisper nonetheless, and a second later, I lose myself yet again, this time in the warmth emitted by his breathtaking kiss…

* * *

><p><em>-Well, I hope you all enjoyed this! I tried to make Ron's past as believable as possible, regarding he lived two centuries before the story's present. <em>

_Now, all I'd want is your reviews; I always like knowing what you think about the story. :)_

_Next chapter up hopefully soon. Currently, I'm working on chapter 7, so I hope that there won't be huge gaps between the chapters. Anyways, take care! :)_


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